


Nemesis

by ThornWild



Series: Nemesis/Hubris [1]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Boy's Love, Coming Out, Friendship, Gay, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Slash, Placebo - Freeform, Romance, Slash, Yaoi, domestic abuse, teenage angst, young adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:12:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 58,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornWild/pseuds/ThornWild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the West Midlands small town of Windfield Green, being gay is something of a rarity. For Nick Davis, the idea of coming out feels like a death sentence, and things only become more difficult when he falls in love with his best enemy, the popular and good looking Dave Thompson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nancy Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this novel for the better part of a decade, and I'm currently rewriting it for the third time. This is a story I really want to tell, so I hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> I've decided to name each chapter after a song by Placebo, and if this were a TV-series, [this would be its theme song](http://youtu.be/PBxuq_eWW94).
> 
>  

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And it all breaks down at the role reversal. Got the muse in my head, she's universal. Spinning me round, she's coming over me._  
>  \--'Nancy Boy', by Placebo

It was a crystal clear September morning, and Nick Davis was due to start his final year of secondary school. It had felt strange, getting out of bed that morning and putting on his uniform, knowing that a year from now he’d be off to college somewhere. The commute would be longer, but it would be worth it to get out of this stupid town, thought Nick as he got into his sister’s car. And calling Windfield Green a town was very generous for a place with a few thousand inhabitants, half a public library, three pubs and a Tesco’s.

Upper Windfield Grammar School wasn’t far, and Nick had been going there since he was eleven, but Zoë had insisted on taking him anyway. 

There was no Lower Windfield Grammar School. In truth, there _was_ no Lower Windfield, nor an upper one, for that matter. When the school was built and named, nearly a century before, they must have been meaning to expand the town (presumably downwards), but it was still just plain old Windfield. 

As they pulled out of the drive, a blond boy on a bicycle flashed by.

Nick gritted his teeth. That wasn’t the same bicycle that Dave Thompson had had before the summer. The spoiled brat was showing off, as usual. ‘Arrogant prick…’ muttered Nick.

Zoë glanced at him from behind her glasses, then shook her head, causing a ginger curl to unravel from her ponytail. ‘Aren’t the two of you ever going to grow up? You’re fifteen!’

‘Not as long as he keeps being an arse,’ said Nick. ‘Which would be never.’

‘But if you tried to be nice to him, maybe he wouldn’t be such an arse,’ said Zoë. ‘Maybe you could put all this behind you and be friends?’

Nick laughed out loud at that. ‘Are you very stoned?’ he asked. ‘I have no intention of being his friend!’

Zoë shrugged. ‘What won’t a boy do for the honour of his sand castle…’

Nick looked out the window and frowned, unwilling to admit to himself how stupid it all was. And who was he to stop now? After all, being enemies had nearly grown to be a kind of hobby. Besides, Dave had started it.

The very first day they met, in nursery, Dave had smashed Nick’s sandcastle, and from that moment on the two boys had hated each other. They fought constantly, and always tried to sabotage one another. 

Their relationship did not improve when they reached school age. Dave was immediately the popular one. He was refined, extroverted and clever, while Nick was awkward and quiet. As they grew older, the differences between them only became more prominent. Dave was tall and blond, with radiant blue eyes and a flashing smile. Nick was slight, with plain brown hair and grey eyes. Dave was handsome and well-liked, while Nick never could make friends, and the opposite sex seemed to have no interest in him.

Dave’s parents were wealthy and successful, and as tall and blonde as was Dave himself. Nick’s parents were divorced, and his father had moved to Plymouth. Nick received postcards from him for Christmas and birthdays, but had not seen him since he left. After the divorce, Nick’s mother had gone through a series of nervous breakdowns and was in and out of hospital all the time. She lived with her sister in Coventry, while Nick had stayed in Windfield with Zoë, who was nine years his senior.

* * *

Dave parked his new bicycle in the shed, before going off to join his friends, Alan Bradford and Chas Arden. Several girls turned their heads after him as he made his way over to the front steps. Over the summer, Dave had grown another inch or so, and he was sporting a fresh tan. His sun-bleached hair was longer, and he mussed it up with his hand as he went, grinning at a few of the prettier girls.

‘How was your summer, mate?’ asked Alan when Dave reached them. Alan had been Dave’s best friend for almost as many years as Nick had been his enemy. He was a little shorter than Dave, but powerfully built, with dark hair and heavy eyebrows. 

‘Oh, you know, nothing special,’ said Dave, leaning back against the railing and scanning the courtyard for short skirts.

Chas, also known as Chas the Chav, was large and slightly fat, and, when out of uniform, dressed as if he’d stepped right out of a gangster rap video, despite being one of the whitest people Dave knew. He hid his short-cropped ginger hair under a Yankees baseball cap most of the time. ‘Yo, you get any o’ dat, BAM, know what I mean, bro?’ he asked in his mock black south London accent. Chas wasn’t very bright, nor particularly interesting, but he was good muscle.

‘Oh, well, you know…’ Dave trailed off, grinning, and winked at one of the girls flitting past, who blushed furiously.

At that moment, Nick entered through the gates, carrying a book.

‘Look who it is,’ said Alan, indicating with his head. ‘And here I was hoping he’d be gone come autumn…’

Dave watched as Nick came towards them, seemingly unaware of their presence, his nose buried deep in his book. Dave nodded to Chas, who grinned and placed his bulk in front of the steps, blocking the way for Nick. 

Nick looked up. ‘Move,’ he said sourly.

Dave reached around his friend and snatched the book out of Nick’s hand. It was called _American Gods_. He looked it over for a moment, then turned to Nick. ‘This isn’t America, you know, Nicky-poo.’

‘What, I can’t read a book with America in the title just because I’m not in America?’ asked Nick, an eyebrow raised. ‘Anyway, it’s written by an English author, so joke’s on you.’

‘Whoa, this one’s clever!’ said Dave with a grin. ‘How much time do you spend reading, anyway? Get out of the house every once in a while, won’t you?’

‘Well, when you ain’t got no friends, dere’s not much else to do, innit?’ said Chas, smirking.

‘You know what?’ said Dave. ‘I’m gonna do you a favour, mate. I’m just gonna hold onto this for you, and you can find something else to do in your spare time. Something a bit less camp than stupid books about Yankee gods, eh?’

‘Piss off, Thompson, give that back!’ growled Nick.

‘Ooh, he’s feisty!’ Dave laughed. He walked around Chas and stood face to face with Nick, dangling the book above his head. ‘Suck. My. Cock!’ 

Nick reached for the book, but Dave was too tall. He scowled at him and gave him a two-finger salute instead. The head teacher chose that precise moment to stick his head out of the front door to the school.

‘You two!’ he barked at them. ‘My office! Now!’

Dave shrugged and dropped the book on Nick’s head before turning around and heading into the building behind their teacher. Nick took a moment to scramble for his book before following.

The head teacher of Upper Windfield Grammar School was a tall, thin man in his fifties, with a moustache and a well-groomed comb-over, named Mr. Reynolds. When they reached his office, he gestured for them to sit down in front of his desk, and sat himself down in the comfortable armchair on the other side.

‘First day back and already you’re in my office,’ he said sternly. ‘I keep hoping for a change, but here you are, Thompson and Davis, the bane of the classroom.’ He looked at each of them in turn from under thick, grey eyebrows. ‘Well, I won’t have it anymore! You’ve been allowed to get away with a lot of things until now, but you’re sitting your GCSEs this year. I _will_ put you both in detention if you disrupt teaching, and you will be suspended if I hear of you starting any fights.’ He sighed and sat back, his expression milder. ‘I also hear from all your teachers that you’re both very bright and able. Surely you have more in common than you think. Is it so impossible for the two of you to set aside your differences and try to be friends?’

‘Friends?!’ exclaimed the two in unison.

‘Sir, that’s just not gonna happen,’ said Dave.

‘Yeah!’ agreed Nick. ‘I can’t see the two of us ever getting along!’

‘Well, at least you’re agreed on that,’ said Mr. Reynolds bemusedly. ‘Fine. Go on hating each other. Just keep it out of the classroom.’ He looked from one to the other. Then he stood. ‘All right, then, lads, off you go.’

The two left together, walking side by side through the corridor. Dave glanced at Nick, feeling suddenly awkward. He felt like he ought to say something.

‘Who does he think he is, huh?’ he tried, with half a smile. ‘Old git…’

‘Yeah,’ said Nick, glancing at him. ‘Who’s he to to try and stop us from doing something we’ve been doing for our entire lives?’

‘Exactly!’ said Dave. They had almost reached the auditorium for the start of term assembly. ‘He did have a point, though,’ he said, stopping.

‘Huh?’ Nick turned around and stared at him. ‘That old… What do you mean, he had a point?’

‘Well,’ said Dave, ‘we do agree on one thing.’ He reached out his right hand towards his companion. ‘We agree to be enemies.’

Nick looked at his hand sceptically, before taking it and shaking it. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘We agree to be enemies.’

They let go and then stood there for a moment, sizing each other up. Nick was first to look away, sticking his hands into the pockets of his black school trousers. His brown hair stuck up at the back and his green tie was slightly loose, and Dave found himself smiling.

‘You’d better straighten that tie before we go in,’ he said. ‘You’ll get in trouble.’

Nick looked up at him again, and Dave thought he saw a faint tint enter his pale cheeks. ‘What? Oh, yeah…’ He reached up to his neck, fixing the tie a bit. ‘Stupid thing,’ he muttered. ‘Can’t wait to start college and not have to worry about uniforms anymore…’

‘Yeah, tell me about it,’ said Dave, grinning.

‘So…’

‘So.’

‘You should probably go on ahead,’ said Nick, looking away again. ‘Wouldn’t do for people to see me arriving with you. I have a lone wolf image to maintain, you know.’

Dave snorted. ‘Yeah, ’course,’ he said. ‘See you around, Davis.’

Nick turned his grey eyes on Dave, and Dave couldn’t quite interpret the look in them. ‘Yeah. See ya.’


	2. Taste in Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Come back to me a while. Change your style again. Come back to me a while. Change your taste in men._  
>  \--'Taste in Men', by Placebo

Nick wasn’t quite sure when he had figured it out. Maybe he had always known, in some way. Girls had never been interested in him, but that was okay, because he had never been interested in them, either. The most painful insult he ever had from Dave and his friends was ‘bender’, ‘queer’, ‘gay’. It hurt because it was true.

He hadn’t told anyone he knew in real life. Not even Zoë. He thought perhaps he was afraid of telling anyone because that would make it more true. Or perhaps, in the end, he was just worried that even Zoë wouldn’t accept him.

He lay in his bed, gazing out of the window at the grey, foggy morning. It was five AM and he hadn’t slept at all. Nights like these were the worst. Too many thoughts in his head, too many questions and not enough answers. He already knew he liked boys; it had always been the male celebrities that made him feel tingly, not the female ones. He had browsed the Internet for gay porn, and liked it. But out of all the boys he knew, why did he have to fall for Dave Thompson?

He had long since admitted to himself that he found Dave attractive, but since they had clasped hands on the first day of school, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. At first, he had thought it was all this talk of them being friends, and that he wanted that, and he probably did—the Dave he had spoken to on the way from Reynolds’s office had seemed a far cry from the arrogant git he had grown accustomed to—but that clearly wasn’t all he wanted.

He had always admired and envied Dave, and he had put it all down to hatred. The past few years, it had been an obsession. Having no real friends of his own to speak of, Nick’s entire life had in some way revolved around Dave, especially after his family had fallen apart. He relished the time they spent sparring with each other, and the days when Dave wasn’t at school seemed boring and bland. He thought he must have felt this way for a long time, and just never truly accepted it before now.

He sighed and turned over in his bed to face the wall. He must have fallen asleep after that, because the next thing he knew, Zoë was shaking him awake.

‘Hey!’ she said, ‘Hey, get out of bed, you lazy lump! You’ll be late!’

Nick sat up, slowly, rubbing his eyes.

‘Christ, you look like you haven’t slept at all!’ said Zoë, one eyebrow raised.

‘I haven’t…’ mumbled Nick. He felt like his head was full of cotton wool and shook it in an attempt to rouse himself. 

Zoë peered at him over the top of her glasses. ‘Oh, dear,’ she said, looking concerned. ‘Well, you ought to get out of bed all the same, school starts in fifteen minutes.’

‘Fifteen?!’ Nick’s eyes were suddenly wide. ‘I’m up!’ He got out of bed and shoved his sister out of the room so he could get dressed. No breakfast today, then.

* * *

Dave glanced over at Nick’s desk. Unbelievable! The little git hadn’t arrived yet. He was always on time. It wasn’t like he was worried or anything, of course, but he had sort of missed him this morning. No one to tease. 

He picked up his pencil and started doodling absentmindedly on the cover of his notebook. He was famous for his doodling, and his ‘art’ could be found on everything from his school books to his own arms. He was often caught doodling when he should be taking notes or otherwise paying attention, but he usually got away with it, because underneath his devil-may-care exterior, Dave was actually a good student. His father would let him get away with nothing less.

The door opened and Nick entered. He looked terrible. His hair was a mess, his shirt was untucked and he had heavy bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept a bit. For a moment, Dave felt a pang of worry for his ‘best enemy’, but he quickly shoved it to the back of his mind.

‘Damn, Davis, you look like shit!’ he said. ‘Where the hell’d you sleep, at the rubbish tip?’

Nick opened his mouth, as though about to say something, but turned instead to the teacher, Miss Gorman, muttering, ‘I’m sorry,’ before proceeding to his seat.

‘What’s the matter, Davis? Cat got your tongue?’ Dave hissed across the room.

‘That line wasn’t funny when Halle Berry said it in _Cat Woman_ , and it’s not funny when you say it either,’ Nick retorted, but without half of his usual gusto.

‘Be quiet, you two,’ said Miss Gorman, with no real anger in her voice.

Most of their teachers were used to their banter, and despite Mr. Reynolds’s warnings they hadn’t got into any trouble for it yet. Usually, no one bothered to raise an eyebrow as long as they were just hurling the occasional insult, saving the big guns for the real fights.

Dave’s father actively encouraged him to continue the enmity, as though it were a sport, something good for his health, like football, and that was yet another reason that the suggestion of Dave and Nick being friends was so ridiculous—in Dave’s home, his father’s word was law.

* * *

For Nick, the morning lessons went by in a haze, and twice his eyes drooped and he fell into a semi-conscious slumber. At lunch he shuffled off to the cafeteria, got himself a plate of chips and sat down alone. As he munched his chips, he glanced over at the table where Dave was sitting with his friends, and his new girlfriend, Linda Langmann. 

Linda was exactly the type of girl you would imagine a boy like Dave would date. She had long, silky, platinum blond hair and hazel eyes. They were a perfect match, both popular and beautiful.

Nick realised with a jolt that he would give almost anything to be where Linda was right now. At that table, in the crook of Dave’s arm, smiling and laughing with a bunch of beautiful people… It certainly had its appeal. And then there was Dave.

He took this opportunity to stare, while no one was paying attention. Dave had turned to his best friend Alan, and was listening intently to whatever he was saying. Dave had always worn the uniform well, the forest green of the school jumper going well with his golden hair, which was slightly messy in that I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-but-I-look-fabulous kind of way. He rested his right elbow on the table before him, and his finger tips were absently picking at his own lips while he focused on Alan’s words. Then he burst out laughing, throwing his head back and exposing his throat. His adams apple bobbed up and down while his laughter rang out across the cafeteria, a bright and clear sound that caused something to tighten somewhere in the vicinity of Nick’s groin.

Nick wondered if he knew. Did Dave realise how utterly beautiful and sexy he was? He wondered fleetingly if anyone had ever actually told him.

Suddenly, Dave turned his head and was looking his way, and Nick quickly turned his eyes away, staring down at his plate and trying not to flush crimson.

The chips didn’t taste as good as he had imagined. He cleared away his tray and went outside. The courtyard was nearly empty, so he wandered around for a little while, his hands in his pockets, deep in thought. He wanted nothing more than to stop thinking about Dave, ignore his feelings and go about his business as usual, but he saw the bastard every day, and Dave would insist on arguing with him. 

And Nick loved it. He loved the way Dave’s eyes sparkled, and the way he laughed, even when he was laughing at Nick. He must be seriously fucked up to enjoy it, but he did. Just having those interactions felt so much more important than what they actually meant. He could ignore the hurtfulness of the words. At least most of the time. 

He went back inside and headed towards the toilets. He was about to go inside when someone called him.

‘Oh, Nicky-poo,’ said a familiar voice, and Nick sighed and turned to see Dave coming towards him. ‘Wrong door, isn’t it? The ladies’ is across the hall!’

‘Give it a rest, will you Dave?’ said Nick wearily. Then he left the way he’d come to find another toilet, one where Dave wasn’t.

* * *

Nick went to bed early that night, but despite his lack of sleep the previous night, for some reason he stayed wide awake again. Dave was such a complete and utter wanker! But still, in spite of his flaws, Nick knew he could be kind. He was, on occasion, stupidly noble, and for all their fighting and teasing Dave had never dished out more than he could take. Verbally, they were equally matched, though Dave had the advantage of having friends to back him up, and was quicker with his comebacks. 

Nick woke up just as miserable the next morning, having had no more sleep than the night before. He even got up early, aware that if he let himself fall asleep again he would miss school entirely. 

The day passed more or less the same as the one before. Dave threw a few comments and Nick tried to retaliate as best he could, without much success. Still, he made it through the day without falling asleep, and that alone was a small victory.

As though by some twist of fate, at the end of the day he ran into Dave in the same bathroom again. He tried to resolutely ignore his presence, but Dave greeted him in the usual manner.

‘Well, hello there, Nicky-poo!’ he said with a smirk.

Nick glared at him. ‘Please stop calling me that,’ he muttered.

Dave raised an eyebrow at him. ‘What the fuck is _up_ with you?’ he asked. Nick noted a hint of concern, but put it down to wishful thinking. He shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. Dave looked positively bewildered. ‘What’s funny?’

Nick looked up at him, no longer smiling. ‘Us,’ he said. ‘This. This whole enemy, fighting each other all the time, infant school shit. What the hell’s it for? I mean, can’t we just put it all behind us, and be friends? Or at least be civil to one another…’ He turned his gaze to the floor.

‘Don’t be so gay, Davis!’ said Dave, and Nick looked up at him again. Dave had a strange expression on his face. Not anger, exactly; more like something between annoyance and puzzlement. It only lasted for a second, though, before it was replaced with the usual smirk. ‘See ya,’ said Dave and left the bathroom.

Nick sighed. All told, that had gone better than expected.

* * *

Dave turned the shower on and let the warm water pour down his sweaty body. He was exhausted. Three solid hours of football practice took its toll, and there was a match the coming Saturday, which meant tougher practice. The team from Dudley that they would be playing was very good, so he was a little nervous, but at least it was a home game. 

Football was a lot of fun, but taxing in the long run. He just stood there for a few minutes, eyes closed, letting the water soothe his tired body. Then he soaped up, rinsed himself off and turned the water off to go get dressed.

The match in three days wasn’t the only thing worrying him, though, he realised. There was something else weighing on his mind. Since their encounter in the bathroom the previous week, Nick hadn’t said a word to him. Well, he’d asked if he could borrow his ruler in math, but other than that, nothing. All of Dave’s attempted insults had gone ignored, or been met by a sulky, slightly hurt look, and that had been that. It took all the fun out of life.

He stopped by Tesco’s on his way home to buy a soft drink, and when he came outside he noticed someone sitting on the low concrete fence at the end of the car park. It was Nick.

He was reading again, and goodness knew why he couldn’t do that at home. He must have finished that stupid god-book, because now he was reading something else.

‘Oi, Davis!’ Dave called, heading towards him. Nick looked up, saw Dave, and quickly stood up to leave. ‘Hey, where do you think you’re going?’ Dave said, quickening his step to catch up.

‘To wherever you’re not,’ Nick replied. 

‘Oh, don’t be like that!’ Dave had caught up now. ‘Let me see that,’ he said, and snatched the book from Nick’s hand.

Nick stopped and sighed. ‘What is it with you and my books, Thompson?’ he asked, sounding exasperated. ‘Is it that you can’t read and they fascinate you in the same way that a fork fascinates a caveman?’

‘Haha,’ said Dave without conviction. ‘ _Anansi Boys_? Well, that doesn’t sound gay at all!’ He handed back the book. ‘Where do you find this shit, Davis?’

‘Amazon dot com,’ said Nick drily. ‘Will you leave me alone now?’

‘Aw, you’re no fun, Nicky-poo!’ Dave pouted. Then, ‘Hey, what’s this?’ He’d noticed a small Moleskine notebook sticking out of Nick’s back pocket, and grabbed it before Nick could stop him.

The other froze, a panicked look flitting across his face. ‘Give that back!’ he said frantically and grasped for the book, but Dave held it out of his reach.

‘Ooh, what is it?’ he asked, genuinely intrigued now. ‘Love poems? Memoirs? A secret diary where you detail how many times a day you have a wank? Yeah, that’s got to be it! Let’s see, then!’ He opened it on the first page, and stopped dead.

The first word he read was his own name. _Dave,_ it said, _This person that I hate. I’ve hated him for all my life. I’ll never know, never see why…_

Nick had stopped struggling and sat down in defeat. ‘Shit,’ he muttered.

Dave scanned the page. _Does he hate me too? Or is it a mere facade? Maybe we could be friends if we tried._ He looked up at Nick, his brow furrowed. ‘What the hell, Davis? Are you writing poetry about me?’

Nick met his gaze defiantly for a moment. Then he suddenly got to his feet, snatched back the notebook and ran off, leaving Dave behind in the darkening car park.

* * *

‘Are you feeling alright?’ asked Linda, looking up at Dave. They were lying on his bed, in each other’s arms. ‘You seem a lot more quiet than usual today…’

‘I’m fine,’ Dave replied with a smile.

‘You were so quiet at school today, though…’ she continued. ‘You hardly argued with Davis at all.’ She sat up and looked down at his face with hazel eyes. ‘Want me to cheer you up?’ She smiled coyly. Then she kissed his lips, and his cheek, and his neck and his collar bone, as the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. She unzipped his jeans and began sneaking a hand slowly down into his pants.

Dave pulled in a sharp breath, and for a moment he was going to let her go on, but for some reason it didn’t feel right.

‘Stop that,’ he said softly, and pulled her hand away.

‘What the hell’s the matter with you?’ Linda asked. ‘You _know_ I’m good.’ She looked at him cockily.

‘God, Linda, would you give it a rest?’

‘What are you, _gay_?’ she shot back.

He fell silent for a moment, looking away. ‘Look, I’m just not in the mood,’ he said finally. ‘I have a lot on my mind.’

‘Not in the mood?’ she repeated, clearly outraged. ‘ _Not in the mood_?! What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?’

‘It means I’m tired right now!’ Dave snapped at her. ‘There’s a lot going on at the moment.’

‘I know that,’ said Linda, back to her sweet self. ‘I’m just offering some stress relief, baby. Get your mind off everything for a little bit.’

‘Thanks, but _that’s_ just not gonna work right now,’ he said kindly and smiled. ‘I just need to think for a bit, that’s all.’

Linda sighed exasperatedly and sat up. ‘Fine,’ she said coolly. ‘I guess I’ll just leave, then. Call me when you’re done being a philosopher.’ She pulled on her cardigan and picked up her bag from the desk chair. ‘I’ll see myself out.’ She left the room, slamming the door a bit harder than strictly necessary.

Dave rubbed his eyes and sighed. His relationship with Linda was still a pretty recent thing. They’d only been seeing each other since the start of term. She had pursued him quite aggressively at his 16th birthday party in the first week back, and as she was pretty, popular and came from a good family, Dave had seen no reason not to go along with it. But she was proud and vain, and Dave didn’t feel like they had much in common, or like he could talk to her about what was going on with him.

Not that he could really explain what he was thinking, anyway. He felt guilty, and it was because of Nick. He felt bad for hurling insults at him for the past week, when Nick hadn’t responded in kind. And then there was the meeting in the car park the night before. The look on Nick’s face when Dave took the notebook, and that poem or whatever it was… What was _that_ all about?

He had this feeling of hopelessness in his gut, which just wasn’t a good thing a couple of days before a match. He needed to pull himself together and stop thinking about Nick Davis, of all people.

He sat up and rubbed his face. Time to snap out of it.

* * *

The following day, Linda showed no sign at all that their disagreement had ever happened. She was all over Dave just as always. While Linda had always been popular, she had experienced an extra surge in social status since she had started seeing him, and was obviously not about to throw all that away.

Dave and Nick still weren’t talking, however. Nick acted as though they didn’t know each other, and Dave felt oddly uncomfortable all day.

The next day was Saturday, and the day of the football match. Dave rode his bicycle down to the football pitch, his stomach churning. Pre-match nerves were a fairly common occurrence, but this was more than that. For some reason, he dreaded it.

He parked his bicycle and shouldered his sports bag. Turning around, he noticed someone leaning against the stands a little way off.

It was Nick. He wore a grey hooded sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up, and had his hands tucked into the pockets of his faded blue jeans. He looked up as Dave caught sight of him and, oddly, grinned. ‘Hey,’ he said, starting towards him.

Dave blinked, and then his brain started working again. ‘Hello,’ he replied. ‘Look, I know you want me, Nicky, but we just can’t keep meeting like this!’

‘My heart’s torn,’ said Nick with a mock-pout. ‘But, sadly, I’m not here to snog you. I just wanted to say, good luck.’ He smiled genuinely. ‘Knock ‘em dead!’

Dave stood for a moment, unsure of whether he should thank him or say something sarcastic, but before he could make up his mind, Nick turned around and walked away, hands in his pockets.

Dave went to get changed and warm up, feeling slightly dazed, and before he knew it they were meant to go out onto the pitch and start the game. As he walked out there, he was surprised to discover that he was back on form.

He scored the first goal, but the opposing team was very good, and soon they were tied. Towards the end of he second half, however, Dave was shoved by another player and awarded a penalty, which he took, and nailed. Like something out of a bad movie, the stands erupted in cheers just as the time ran out, and Dave’s teammates milled around him, to hug him and lift him up and carry him towards the changing rooms. After showering and changing, he went outside to meet up with his friends and Linda, who all greeted him enthusiastically and congratulated him on his victory.

Then they went out for pizza, and he enjoyed the praise of his friends, but all through this perfect moment, Dave couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing.


	3. Plasticine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Beauty lies inside the eye of another youthful dream that doesn't sell its soul for self-esteem, that's not plasticine._  
>  \--'Plasticine', by Placebo

‘What? You can’t break up with me!’ Linda glared at him, eyes blazing. ‘No one dumps _me_!’ 

Dave sighed and looked away. He had been afraid of this. ‘Look, it’s not that I don’t like you or anything. It’s just that I don’t think we’re good together.’ He wondered for a moment whether he should stick in an, ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ but decided against it. 

‘No!’ she said. ‘People don’t dump me, I dump them, you hear me?’ Linda was fuming. 

‘Fine, then tell people you dumped me. I don’t want to be in this relationship anymore.’ Dave was starting to get annoyed now. This wasn’t at all going the way it was supposed to. He had dumped several girls before (every girl he had ever dated, in fact), always very gently, and usually they would cry, ask what they did wrong. He would tell them it wasn’t their fault, that he liked them, and then they would hug and go their separate ways.

Linda wasn’t sad. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t upset that he didn’t want to be with her anymore. She was upset that she was being dumped. This did nothing to change Dave’s mind.

‘Fine, I will!’ she shouted, before storming off down the corridor.

Dave sighed. Hell of a way to start a morning.

* * *

Nick looked out of the classroom window. It was now early october, and the leaves on the maple trees outside were turning yellow and red. He glanced down at his English book and sighed. He had no concentration these days.

Looking up again, he noticed someone watching him out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and his eyes met Linda’s. Her face froze in a deer-in-the-headlights expression, before she turned her head away, looking embarrassed. No, surely not embarrassed. What would she be embarrassed about? Nick returned to his work, shaking his head.

Nick sat down by himself at lunch, as per usual. In general, it wasn’t okay to be different in Windfield Green. People who were different didn’t make friends. Nick had gone to great lengths in the past to be like everyone else, but it had never really worked. They had always seen through him. He never had managed to like the music or the movies that the others liked, to talk and act the way they did.

There had been other kids who were different in the past. A family of Orthodox Jews had settled down in the town a few years previously. Their boys had been mocked relentlessly for their kippot and their long curls, for wearing suits when not in their uniforms, and for having big noses. The family had since moved to a bigger city, closer to a synagogue.

A Turkish girl named Elanur had gone to their school for a while. She had worn a hijab with her uniform, and at first had been asked to take it off by the teachers who were unaware that school policy dictated that she be allowed to wear it. But even after the teachers had realised their mistake, the other pupils teased her for it. It had ended badly, with Elanur being assaulted and beaten by a group of her peers, and the family having her transferred to a different school district.

And those were the kids who _looked_ different. Over the years there had been a number of kids who just didn’t fit in because they acted differently. A few had persevered, assimilated to one another and formed their own social cliques. Others had left. One notable case had ended in suicide. Nick, despite not fitting into any group, was respected enough that he had never been outright bullied, but never enough that anyone wanted to befriend him, and so he remained, but was always alone. 

This was why he was so surprised when someone walked up to him and said, ‘Er, excuse me… Is this seat taken?’

Nick looked up and saw Linda looking down at him, smiling. He looked behind him, to see if there was someone else she might have been talking to, but there was nobody else nearby.

‘Er,’ he said after a while. ‘Er, no… I mean, the seat’s not taken, no.’ He wondered sceptically if this was a trick, and if he asked her to sit down, would she say, ‘No way, loser!’ and walk away.

But before he had time to offer her the seat, Linda had already taken it. She set down her tray and sat down opposite him, smiling. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ she asked, no doubt noticing the bewildered look on his face.

‘No, of course not,’ said Nick, coming to his senses. ‘No, it’s fine. Just… Why aren’t you sitting with Thompson and them?’

Linda turned her head and glanced over at the table where her usual friends were seated. ‘I don’t know, I just can’t stand talking to those idiots right now… Besides, Dave and I broke up.’

Nick choked on his macaroni. ‘What? When?’

‘This morning…’ Linda stared down at her plate, looking miserable.

‘Do you…’ Nick began awkwardly, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. ‘Do you—I mean, d’you want to talk about it?’

She nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’d love that. But do you think we could go somewhere else?’

‘Of course,’ said Nick. ‘I’m full, anyway.’

* * *

Linda spent about fifteen minutes sobbing about how Dave had never listened to what she had to say, how he had never cared about what _she_ wanted. It was all him and his needs, all the time. Nick guessed he knew what _that_ meant, and he felt sorry for her, but at the same time he felt a pang of regret knowing that Dave would never want anything like that from _him_.

They sat in a corner at the far end of the courtyard, next to the bicycle shed, where they were unlikely to be disturbed. Linda, who had barely said two words to Nick before that weren’t ‘you’ and ‘suck’, was now talking freely, about her failed relationship with Dave and how she would never look at him again. Having grown up with his older sister, Nick knew exactly where to interject a sympathetic sound or phrase. Girls, he knew, didn’t want advice or solutions. They just wanted to feel like someone listened to them. So Nick listened. 

Linda wiped the tears from her cheek. ‘God, you must think I’m a total wreck!’ she said.

‘Oh, no, not at all!’ Nick replied quickly. ‘No, I get it. You’ve been through a lot, so…’ He trailed off.

Linda looked at him and smiled. ‘You are so nice!’ she said. ‘I’m so glad I finally summoned the courage to talk to you. I could never have done it before, not with Dave around, but I just don’t care about being popular anymore.’ She took Nick’s hand. ‘Let’s be friends from now on! Okay?’

Nick grinned. ‘Okay!’

* * *

Nick turned on his computer when he got home. This day had been very different, to say the least. He still wasn’t sure what Linda was up to, but she had seemed genuinely kind. Perhaps she was turning over a new leaf.

He logged onto Messenger, and was happy to find Mel already online.

Mel was a strictly online acquaintance. They had met on some message board or another years ago, and had at some point exchanged e-mail addresses. They didn’t know anything about each other aside from their first names, and spurred on by the anonymity of the Internet and the certainty that Mel did not live anywhere near him, Nick had spilled out his heart to her. She was the closest thing he had to a friend. She listened and gave him advice, and he did the same for her. Other than a few guys in dubious chat rooms, she was the only person in the world that he had told about his sexuality.

 _I made a friend today,_ he wrote.

 _Wow, good for you!_ came the reply a few seconds later. _Tell me everything!_

 _Her name’s Linda,_ Nick wrote. _She’s D’s ex-girlfriend. They only broke up today, so I’m still a bit uncertain about it… But she approached me. Told me everything about how miserable she’d been, which I can believe with him for a boyfriend. Anyway, turns out we have a lot in common, and she’s invited me to go with her to a party this weekend._

He waited for a response, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desktop.

Mel wrote back, _Are you sure that’s wise?_

 _What to you mean?_  

_Well, option A, this is all an elaborate practical joke and you’re gonna get humiliated, Carrie style. Option B, it’s the real thing, but what if she has feelings for you?_

_What if she does?_ Nick wrote back quickly.

 _Nick, you’re gay,_ was all she wrote in response.

 _Well, yeah, I think I am…_ Nick thought about his wording, and then wrote, _But no girl has ever shown any interest in me in that way, so how can I be sure? I’ve never kissed anyone at all._

He waited again. Mel took her sweet time replying this time, so he checked his e-mail and twitter, and then the Messenger window blinked again.

_I think you really, really want to feel normal, and you think that maybe this could be your chance at that. I’m not saying you shouldn’t go to the party at all, just that you should be careful. Don’t get too close until you’re sure, because you never know if she might turn out not to be entirely honest. Maybe she just wants to be your friend, in which case hurrah, but just in case she just wants to hurt you, or worse yet, just wants to hurt D, just be careful with how close you let her get and how much you let her know about you, yeah?_

Nick sighed. He knew she was right, really. _Yeah,_ he wrote back. _Okay. I have to go now, though. Homework. Later._

He logged off.

* * *

The following day Nick and Linda ate lunch together again. Since Dave appeared to be their common denominator, they mostly talked about him, but now Linda seemed to be over the initial shock of the break-up, and wanted to hear how Nick felt about him.

So Nick told her about their fights growing up, and how Dave seemed to always sabotage any chance he had of making friends, conveniently leaving out the bits about how fit Nick thought he was.

‘I never understood what was so great about him,’ he added, after a good ten minutes of this. ‘I mean, I guess he has a way of sucking people in…’

‘Yeah,’ agreed Linda. ‘I mean, obviously… I feel so stupid for having fallen for it, really. Now I know what he’s really like, you won’t see me pandering for his attention any time soon.’ She smiled at Nick. ‘You are such a better person!’

They went on to discuss their interests. They didn’t have very much in common. Most of the music Nick liked she hadn’t even heard of, and most of the music she liked, he found to be awfully tedious. She did like Muse, which was something, he supposed. It didn’t really seem to matter much that they had such different tastes, though. He promised to burn her some CDs with things she might like.

He couldn’t understand how he had misjudged her so. He had always taken her to be just another dumb blonde, but here she was, open minded and inviting, and interested in his feelings and opinions. Maybe Dave and all those other popular people had brought out the worst in her, but it was as if she’d changed over night, and Nick genuinely liked this person.

* * *

Dave watched his ex-girlfriend from across the cafeteria. He didn’t know what she was up to, but he felt certain it couldn’t be anything good. It made no sense for her to be so nice to Nick. What could they possibly have in common? Was it possible that she genuinely liked him?

No, that couldn’t be it. Linda was ambitious and greedy. She wasn’t nice to anyone unless it benefited her, and for her to try and befriend someone so utterly unpopular just didn’t make sense. 

He saw them both laugh at something. They looked to be having a good time, but all the same, there was definitely something going on.

* * *

It had been a long time since Nick had been to a party. When he was little, and his classmates’ parents threw their children birthday parties, he had always been invited by proxy. He would go, sit in a corner, eat some cake and feel very sorry for himself indeed when no one would play with him.

When his classmates had begun to arrange their own parties and write their own guest lists, Nick stopped getting invited. The very last time he had been, he had been denied entry and gone home feeling worse about himself than ever before.

This time, however, everything was different. Linda and he met up a couple of blocks away. She was wearing a pink dress, a white, knitted cardigan and gold ballerina flats. Nick himself was dressed in one of his nicer pair of denims and a purple button-down shirt. Fashion wasn’t a priority with him, but Zoë had helped pick out the outfit and told him he looked very handsome. 

The party was hosted by a girl in their year named Julianne, who had been unwisely left home alone by her parents, and she was one of Linda’s closest friends. Julianne had dark hair and a pretty enough face, and lived in one of the town’s posher areas, in an early twentieth century brick house. They were greeted with welcoming smiles, and though Nick could feel everyone’s eyes on him and knew that he was out of place, it appeared that everyone accepted his presence, by virtue of his companion.

Inside, loud music was blaring from the stereo system. Around them, people were dancing and drinking, and there was pizza and snacks set out on a table. Someone, most likely a helpful older sibling, had brought several cases of Foster’s that stood under the table, for anyone who hadn’t brought their own alcohol. Linda immediately grabbed two cans and handed one to Nick. Not wanting to be rude, Nick took a sip. It wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. He had never been much of a drinker, never really having had anyone to drink _with_. His sister occasionally let him sample wine or champagne on special occasions, but he had never set out to get drunk with people his own age before. However, it was what everyone else here was doing, so he thought he might as well. Who knew when he would next get an opportunity to act like a normal teenager?

Linda introduced him to people, and he found himself talking and laughing with them, the alcohol going straight to his head.

‘Let’s dance!’ said Linda when they had finished their first drinks, and Nick, to his own immense surprise, readily complied. He wasn’t a bad dancer—a good sense of rhythm came with playing guitar, which was something he’d been doing actively for three years—though he hadn’t had much practice at dancing before. He managed reasonably well in spite of this, though.

After a while he excused himself to go to the loo. It was only about eight o’clock, but already there were couples snogging noisily in bedrooms as he passed them. When at last he found the bathroom, it was occupied, so he waited. He glanced through the corridor out towards the living room where the party was going.

The door to the bathroom opened, and he turned towards it, finding himself face to face with Alan Bradford. 

‘Davis? What the fuck are _you_ doing here?’

‘Well, hello to you too, Bradford,’ said Nick coolly, feeling braver than usual. ‘I was invited.’

‘Invited? Who the hell by?’

‘Linda asked me to come along,’ Nick replied, a little bit smugly. ‘Now, are you gonna let me pass? I need to have a piss.’

Alan raised an eyebrow and stared at him, surprise evident on his face. Nick stepped around him and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He stared at his face in the mirror, wondering briefly what the hell he was doing here. This wasn’t his world.

When he returned to the party a few minutes later, Julianne had brought out a large bowl of fruit punch. He went to find Linda, who handed him a plastic cup. 

‘We call it Strawberry Hell!’ she said, grinning. ‘Basically, run strawberries through a food processor, add sparkling lemonade, ice and whatever booze you have handy. Everyone who had anything brought it and mixed it in.’

It didn’t taste half bad, thought Nick, taking a sip. When they had finished their drinks Linda wanted to dance again, and Nick gladly obliged. He realised he even knew the song that was playing and didn’t find it half as annoying as most songs of its caliber. He felt lightheaded and oddly happy, dancing with a girl for the first time in his life. It felt so strangely normal and gratifying, and he thought, _I could get used to this._

A little while later they plopped down on a sofa together, utterly exhausted and laughing like maniacs.

‘That was so much fun!’ said Nick, turning his head to look at Linda, who was still giggling. ‘Really, thank you. Thanks for, you know, bringing me here. I honestly can’t remember when I last had this much fun.’

‘No problem,’ she replied. She smiled. Brought up a hand to tentatively brush a stray strand of hair from his brow. Bit her lip. Giggled again.

Nick smiled, and looked into her eyes. She _was_ pretty, he decided. Her hazel eyes sparkled.

Then, suddenly, she was kissing him. He was so taken aback, at first he went rigid. But her lips were soft, and she had one hand on his shoulder, and after a moment he leaned into the kiss. This wasn’t so bad. She took one of his hands and placed it on her waist. Her body, pressed up against his, felt soft and warm and curvy. He wondered briefly what Dave’s body felt like. More angular, perhaps. Slender and powerful.

Linda’s tongue poked at his lips and he parted them instinctively. Her mouth was hot, and tasted like strawberries and alcohol and faintly like beer. It wasn’t really turning him on, he rdecided, but it wasn’t unpleasant at all. It felt good and normal and like the proper thing to do, so he brought his other hand up to cup her cheek, and she leaned deeper into the kiss, her tongue becoming more insistent.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but he was brought back to reality rather suddenly as someone grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him away from her.

‘What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?’ There stood Dave, in all his splendour.  He looked gorgeous, dressed in fashionable dark blue jeans, a reasonably tight pale yellow t-shirt with a surf motif, and a blue and grey plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. His blonde hair was mussed up just so. 

And he looked dangerous, rage evident on his face. He shoved Nick roughly, who stumbled backwards into a bunch of people standing by the door to the kitchen, causing one of them to spill beer down his front.

‘Oi, watch it!’ the offended party said gruffly.

’S-sorry,’ said Nick, steadying himself. The room was spinning slightly.

‘Who the hell do you think you are, eh?’ shouted Dave, coming towards him.

‘Please don’t fight in here!’ squeaked Julianne frantically, running between them. 

‘Fine,’ said Dave darkly. ‘Outside, Davis!’

Nick hesitated. He searched the crowd for Linda, but she seemed to have vanished in the crowd. No one was coming to his defence. He sighed, and began making his way towards the door. Either way, he supposed it was time he left.

Once outside, Dave turned to him again. ‘Been feasting on my scraps, have you?’ he spat venomously. 

‘Why don’t you mind your own fucking business, Thompson?’ Nick retorted. ‘You treated Linda like absolute shit, and she came to _me_ for comfort!’

‘Oh, so you think she cares about you, do you?’ Dave said with disdain. ‘You think she came to you because you’re different, because she likes you? She came to you because _I_ hate you, to make _me_ jealous so she could win me back!’ 

It was like a slap in the face, and all Nick could do was stare. Dave glared back, neck flushed, panting with anger. They stood facing each other like that for what felt like an eternity.

At last Dave looked away, and for a minute it was as if all the fight had gone out of him. ‘Go home, Davis,’ he said quietly. ‘You don’t belong here.’ Then he turned around and went back inside.

* * *

Back in Julianne’s living room, Linda came bounding up to Dave looking elated. ‘So, want to dance?’ she asked, batting her eyelashes and looking as pretty as she could.

Dave glared at her furiously. ‘What the hell are you playing at?’ he shouted at her, and she blinked, looking surprised. ‘Linda, just cause you managed to make me jealous, that doesn’t mean I want to get back together. You are a mean, cheap slut, and I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole!’ He disappeared into the crowd and left her standing alone.


	4. Bruise Pristine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Means are right for taking, fade to grey. Trying to be ruthless in the face of beauty. In this matrix, it's plain to see it's either you or me._  
>  \--'Bruise Pristine', by Placebo

It had only just gone nine, and Nick really didn’t feel like going home yet. Zoë was spending the evening at home with her boyfriend, Craig, and Nick didn’t want to be in the way, or walk in on something he’d rather not see. Besides, he didn’t want to come home drunk, and his head was still spinning. 

So he just wandered around town for a while, trying to sober up. Windfield Green was almost entirely empty, though he could hear chattering and music from one of the pubs when he passed it. In the end he went to Tesco’s and bought himself a cola. He sat down on the pavement outside to drink it and pulled his mobile from his pocket.

He wrote a text to Linda.

_Did you really just want to get to know me so you could make Dave jealous?_

He sat for a couple of minutes, drinking his cola, listening to the silence. Then the mobile buzzed in his hand and he looked down.

_sorry. ur rly not my type. u should of known that from the start._

Well, at least she had the decency to respond, he thought, and gave a short laugh, in spite of himself. Mel had been right. He wondered if she would be online when he got home. Probably not. Surely she had better things to do on a Saturday night?

It was getting a bit chilly, so in the end he had to conclude that it was time to head home. He emptied his cola and threw the bottle in a bin.

When he got home, he stepped cautiously through the hall towards the sitting room. ‘Hello?’ he said, poking his head through the doorway.

‘Hey, Nick,’ said Zoë, smiling. She sat curled up in Craig’s arms on the sofa. ‘What are you doing home so early?’

‘Meh. Not really my cup of tea, this party thing. I’ll tell you about it later.’ He glanced at Craig. He wasn’t entirely thrilled about telling Zoë what had happened at the party in front of him. In fact, he wasn’t entirely thrilled about Craig in general. 

Craig had a tanned, stubbled face, very light blue eyes, dark hair and heavy eyebrows. He was in his late twenties and worked as a carpenter, which was, boringly enough, how he and Zoë had met, when they had needed new doors for the kitchen cupboards. Craig was powerfully built and very tall. He seemed easy going and pleasant enough, but for some reason, Nick found him creepy. But, he thought, if he made Zoë happy it didn’t matter one bit how Nick felt about him.

‘Well, I’m glad you’re back,’ said Zoë. ‘I want to talk to you about something.’ She got up and pushed Nick into the kitchen. ‘Well, sit down,’ she prompted, looking a bit nervous. Nick sat down at the table, and Zoë sat down opposite him.

‘How would you feel about Craig moving in with us?’ she asked.

Nick froze and stared at her for a moment. ‘In here?’ he asked. ‘Wow. Erm, I don’t know…’

Zoë’s freckled cheeks were rosy, and she looked excited and nervous at the same time. She bit her lip. ‘It’s just that everything’s going so well. We’ve been together almost a year, and I’d really like to try it out. You see, we’ve been talking about maybe getting married…’

Nick swallowed and looked away for a moment. Zoë seemed so happy, like she really wanted this. She had given up so much for Nick’s sake, to look after him and be there for him. She had quit her veterinary medicine degree at university and moved back home, taking a job at the local library, all so Nick didn’t have to move to Plymouth or go into foster care. He didn’t want to disappoint her.

He looked at her again. She looked expectant, her grey eyes bright and wide. ‘That’s great, Zoë,’ he said and smiled as genuinely as he could. ‘That’s really great. And of course he can move in!’

Zoë let out a squeal of delight and got out of her seat to hug her little brother. ‘I’ll go tell him straight away!’

‘Yeah, I’m gonna go to my room,’ said Nick, quickly. ‘Bit knackered. See you in the morning!’

* * *

Nick turned on his computer and logged onto Messenger. Almost at once, he received a message from Mel. It seemed as though she didn’t have anything better to do, after all.

_You’re back early. I take it the party didn’t go so well?_

Nick stared at his computer screen and sighed. Mel could never be accused of being stupid.

 _Why do you just assume that?_ he wrote back. There was no reply, so he added, _No, you’re right, it didn’t go well. You were right, as usual. She was just using me to get back at D._

Mel’s reply came quickly. _I’m so sorry, sweet!_ _:(_ _God, some people can just be so cruel… Are you all right?_

Nick shook his head and smiled to himself. _Yeah,_ he wrote. _I’m doing much better than I would have imagined, actually. She snogged me. Didn’t really do much for me. Guess I really am gay, lol!_

He hesitated. Then he wrote again, _Something else has happened, though._

_What?_

_You know my sister’s creepy boyfriend? Well, she asked me if it was all right with me if he moves in with us._

_Really?_ Mel’s response came quicker than usual. _What did you say?_

_Well, what can I say, really? She says they’ve been talking about getting married. I can’t get in her way like that. Don’t like it, though…_

Nick leaned back in his seat and sighed. Life was getting a lot more complicated, it seemed.

* * *

The sound of Dave’s alarm clock pierced his unsettled dreams and he sat up in bed, slowly. The previous day had been the worst in his life thus far. After his confrontation with Nick and subsequent rejection of Linda on Saturday, he had gone on a bit of a binge. The hangover had lasted most of the Sunday, and he’d missed church. He had attempted to convince his parents it was just a stomach bug, but his father had seen right through him and grounded him for a week. He had also been bombarded with texts from a by now rather desperate Linda. He had ignored the first twenty, and then written back something along the lines of, _Stop texting me, you stupid whore!_ He had regretted it the moment he hit ‘send’, but at least the texts stopped coming. 

He made a face as he thought back to Saturday’s events. He felt a bit bad for exploding in Nick’s face. After all, it hadn’t been his fault that Linda had decided to trick him to get back at Dave. He gave a short, humourless laugh. He’d never had an evil ex before. It was nowhere near as fun as he’d imagined.

Dave got out of bed and got dressed, before trotting downstairs to the kitchen. His father was sitting at the table reading _The Telegraph_. His mother was nowhere to be seen.

‘Eat your breakfast,’ said his father stiffly, without looking at him. ‘Don’t be late for school, and I want you straight home after. You have football practice this evening.’

‘Yes, sir, I know,’ Dave mumbled, grabbing himself a bowl of cereal. 

‘I’m disappointed in you, David,’ his father continued, eyes still on the newspaper. ‘Getting drunk like that shows serious weakness of character.’

‘Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.’

George Thompson was a lawyer, a royalist, a tory and an Anglican (if only because that’s what good Englishmen were), in that order, and he expected the same from his son. Dave had no interest in politics or the law, and was religiously indifferent, but he humoured his father to the best of his abilities. Some part of him still wanted his father to be proud of him.

When Dave arrived in school he parked his bike and went to meet up with his friends by the front steps. 

‘Hello,’ he said glumly.

‘Yo,’ said Chas. ‘I got some pang new games for my XBox yesterday, man, you guys wanna come to mine and play this afternoon?’

‘Chas, have you even got enough brain power for XBox?’ said Alan. ‘I’m in. How about it, Dave?’

‘Sorry, can’t,’ Dave replied with a grimace. ‘Grounded. My dad figured out I’d been drinking. Only allowed out for school and football.’

He sighed. Then he noticed someone sitting some twenty feet away, reading. Something to take his mind off being grounded for a while.

‘Oi, Davis!’ he shouted, crossing over to him. ‘What are you reading today, oh great king of book nerds?’ Upon closer inspection he noticed that Nick had a smaller book inside the bigger one. He recognised the little Moleskine notebook. ‘Oh, even better. Writing poetry again?’

‘Piss off,’ said Nick and made to put the notebook away, but Alan snuck up behind and snatched it out of his hand. He read out loud.

‘“The bitch is breathing, panting, running, following the path of ins… insignificance. But out of the pre—predicament he walks, tall, unscarred and lurking round the corner of contempt mixed in with love…” What is this shit, batty-boy?’

‘Oh, it’s Nicky’s poetry collection, isn’t it, Nicky?’ said Dave, eyes glinting. ‘You writing about me again? We’ve been over this. I’m out of your league!’

By now they had acquired an audience. Nick stood up calmly and took the notebook back from Alan.

‘Oh, bollocks!’ he sighed, in mock defeat. ‘And I’d planned out this romantic date and everything. Whatever shall I do now?’ He shrugged one shoulder. ‘What can I say? You make me happy in my pants.’

Dave snorted. ‘What have you even got in your pants?’ he said derisively, hoping Nick would back down.

‘Oh, more than you could ever imagine, Mr. Thompson…’ Nick winked at him.

Dave blinked. That had been unexpected. It had been a long time since Nick had been this bold. He found that he could think of no response that wouldn’t sound either petulant or gay, and felt a hot blush creep up his neck. He was literally saved by the bell, however, as it rang a moment later signalling the start of the school day. He escaped into the building with great relief, and avoided Nick for the rest of the day.

* * *

 _So then he tried to make a joke out of it, like what have I even got down my pants, so I said, ‘more than you could ever imagine,’ and I could see it, he just froze._ Nick was typing quickly and more than a little excitedly. _He was totally blushing!_

He waited for Mel to respond, still grinning. It had just been too bloody brilliant. The look on Dave’s face had been priceless! He had felt so powerful just then and he couldn’t help but wonder, if Dave was really completely straight, would he have blushed like that?

 _Maybe he just got flushed cause he was angry?_ Mel offered after a few moments.

 _No, that wasn’t his angry face,_ Nick wrote back. _That was his embarrassed ‘what do I say now’ face._

_What did he say?_

_Nothing. The bell rang. He ran away. Rushed inside as quick as those sexy legs could carry him._

There came a knock on his door. ‘Nick?’

 _Brb, my sister wants a word,_ Nick wrote to Mel. ‘Yeah?’ he said out loud.

Zoë pushed open the door, looking a bit anxious. ‘Aunt Karen just called,’ she said. ‘Mum’s had a nervous breakdown again. I’ve got to head off to Coventry.’

Nick stood up quickly. ‘Is mum all right? Has she hurt herself?’

‘No, she’s okay. She’s in a right state, though, so she might have to be admitted again. I’m just gonna help Aunt Karen get everything sorted.’

‘I’m coming with you,’ said Nick, making for the door, but Zoë caught hold of his wrist, gently.

‘Absolutely not!’ Her tone was gentle, but firm. ‘This isn’t a social call, Nick. You don’t need to see her like this.’

‘She’s my mum, too!’ Nick said savagely.

Zoë studied his face with a pained expression. ‘I know, sweet, and I’m sorry, but you can’t come. She wouldn’t want you to see her like this, and you have school in the morning, too. You’re staying here, with Craig, and that’s final. I’ll be back in the morning.’ She tried a smile. ‘This might be a good opportunity for you to get to know him better, too,’ she added.

* * *

‘So, how are things?’ asked Nick in what he hoped was a friendly tone. He looked up from his book at Craig, who was sitting in the sofa with a rugby match on the telly, a can of Carling in his hand. Nick himself was in the armchair by the reading lamp. It was about half seven in the evening. Not wanting to disappoint his sister he had taken her advice. Maybe all he really needed was to get to know Craig a little better? It was possible that he’d turn out to be a perfectly lovely person.

So far he was unimpressed.

‘Oh, what the—What are you doing, you stupid bugger?’ Craig shouted at the television. ‘Just hammer him!’

Nick glanced at the screen, trying to make sense of it. He liked football well enough when he was in the stands, though he suspected he liked it better because a certain someone was on Windfield’s youth team. Rugby, on the other hand, he had no particular affection for. It really just seemed like a lot of testosterone and not a lot of brains to him, violent and over the top.

‘Not going too well, then?’ he tried.

‘Bloody awful!’ said Craig, shaking his head and emptying his beer can. ‘They’re fucking useless…’ He looked at the empty can in his hand and then put it on the table next to the other five. ‘Get me ‘nother one, would you?’ he said to Nick without looking at him. His speech was slightly slurred.

Nick raised an eyebrow, taking in the six empty cans and Craig’s red face. He hadn’t realised how much the man drank before. ‘Don’t you think you’ve had enough?’ he said casually.

Craig looked at him, then, apparently struggling to focus a little. ‘Yes, thanks, _mum_ ,’ he shot back. ‘Just get me another, yeah?’

‘I think we’re out,’ Nick lied. He knew there was more in the basement.

Craig glanced at him, sat back in his seat and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He put one to his lips and made to light it.

‘Don’t light that in here!’ Nick said incredulously. ‘You wanna smoke, you go outside. Don’t poison _me_ with that shit!’

‘You know, I don’t like your attitude, kid!’ said Craig, anger creeping into his voice. ‘And I’ve noticed you don’t like me. Way you look at me. Like you don’t think I’m good enough. And you know what? I think you’re just a slimy little twat who needs to get over himself!’

‘You know, you’re right,’ said Nick, anger rising inside him. 

‘About you being a slimy little twat? I should think so…’

‘I _don’t_ like you!’ Nick interrupted, talking over Craig. ‘I’ve tried giving you the benefit of the doubt, tried being civil, and just look at you! You’re a fucking drunk!’ He shot him a look of contempt. ‘I should probably mention that to Zoë. Maybe she’ll dump you before you move in any of your stuff. It’ll save everyone a lot of trouble.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Craig growled, now openly glaring. He took the cigarette from his mouth and pointed it at Nick. ‘I’ll bet you think you’re awfully clever, don’t you? But you’re not. You’re just another obnoxious little kid who gets in everyone’s way. Probably why your daddy left and your mum’s a head case.’

Nick snapped his book shut. ‘My mum is _not_ a head case! She’s ill!’ he shouted. ‘I just keep noticing more things I don’t like about you. You are rude, and a drunk, and you’re the last thing Zoë and I need in our lives!’

‘Shut up!’ Craig dropped the cigarette on the table and stood up. He grabbed Nick by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him out of his seat. ‘Would you mind repeating that?’ he growled menacingly.

Nick stared straight into his eyes. ‘You are a mindless alcoholic whom nobody needs, least of all us!’ he hissed venomously.

Craig pulled back his fist and punched Nick square in the face. Nick felt a trickle of blood from his nose. ‘You worthless little shit!’ shouted Craig, hitting him again. Nick didn’t scream, but he squirmed and managed at last to wriggle free of the older man’s grasp. He ran out into the hallway, stopping only to grab his shoes. Craig caught up with him, then, and grabbed his left arm, twisting. Now Nick did scream. He did the only thing he could think of and batted at Craig with his trainers. Craig let go of his arm, and Nick ran out the door in his socks, clutching his shoes to his chest.

* * *

Dave buckled his belt and pulled on his jacket. He stuffed his kit into his black sports bag and shouldered it. 

‘Nice work today,’ said one of his teammates, Matt.

‘Cheers, you too. See you tomorrow,’ said Dave.

‘Yeah,’ said Matt, nodding. ‘See ya!’

Once outside, Dave unlocked his bike and took off. He was taking a short cut through the park when he noticed a familiar figure on a bench by the fountain, illuminated by the light from a lamppost. He stopped.

‘Davis!’ he called. He got off the bike and started rolling it towards him. ‘What the hell are you doing out here so late? Get kicked out of your house or something?’

‘Go away!’ said Nick, but it was barely more than a whisper. Dave frowned. He leaned the bike against a tree and went closer.

‘Hey, what’s up with you?’ he asked. 

Nick turned his head around and glared at him. Dave’s eyes widened. The other boy had a black eye, his nose was bleeding and he had a bad cut on his lower lip. He was shivering in only jeans and a blue t-shirt, and he was clutching a bruised left arm to his chest.

‘Christ…’ breathed Dave. ‘Wha—what happened to you?’

‘None of your bloody business!’ Nick growled, looking away again.

Dave sat down next to him, trying to catch his eye. ‘Nick,’ he said seriously, ‘tell me who did this so I can kill him!’

Nick gave a harsh laugh. ‘Why the hell do you care all of a sudden? You hate my fucking guts, don’t you? Please leave…’

‘Oi, you’re my worst enemy. No one else is allowed to mess with you! Now tell me who’s responsible for this! God, if it’s Alan, I’m gonna—’

‘It’s not, it’s no one you know.’ Nick looked resigned. He sighed, finally meeting Dave’s gaze. ‘If you must know, it was my sister’s boyfriend.’

Dave stared at him for a moment. Then his mouth fell open and he uttered the only phrase that seemed appropriate for the situation. ‘Fuck _me_!’

‘I hardly think this is the time, but it’s a worthy sentiment,’ said Nick drily. 

Dave shook his head and looked away. ‘Someone should tell him to go pick on someone his own size! How old is he? Your sister’s in her mid twenties, right? I’ll bet he’s older than she is… You should report this, you know,’ he rambled. Then he looked at Nick again, who was still clutching his bruised arm. ‘Let me see your arm.’

‘No!’ Nick growled.

‘Shut up, Davis, and let me see your fucking arm!’ Dave snapped. Nick scowled at him, but let him take hold of his arm and examine it. Nick winced at the touch. ‘This doesn’t look too good,’ said Dave.

‘Didn’t look this bad ten minutes ago,’ said Nick. He winced again as Dave felt the bruises. ‘It hurts less now, though.’

‘Shit…’ said Dave. ‘What did he do, twist it?’

‘Yeah,’ replied Nick. He looked up and their eyes met, but he quickly looked away again.

Nick’s arm was icy cold and covered in goose flesh. ‘You’re freezing,’ said Dave and let go. He took off his jacket and draped it over Nick’s shoulders. Nick looked like he might protest. ‘You’ll catch your death dressed like that at this time of night!’ Dave insisted.

He proceeded to have a look at his face. He brushed some hair away from Nick’s forehead to look at his black eye. It was swollen and purple. ‘Can you see at all?’ he asked. 

Nick nodded. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks, I think,’ he said.

Dave pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to try and wipe away some of the blood around Nick’s nose, though most of it had dried up. ‘Your nose isn’t broken,’ he said. ‘Just bruised. He just burst a blood vessel when he hit you.’

‘How do you know this stuff?’ said Nick, sounding half annoyed, half impressed.

‘ _Grey’s Anatomy_ ,’ Dave joked. ‘No, I really don’t watch that,’ he amended quickly. ‘Hey, I play football. You think I haven’t had worse than this? And my mum was gonna be a nurse before she got married. I found some of her old text books in the library. I like reading them. Bet you didn’t know _that_ about me!’ He moved on. ‘This is a nasty cut!’ he said, looking at Nick’s lip.

‘Actually, that wasn’t Craig,’ said Nick weakly. ‘I tried to put my shoes on and run at the same time. Took a spectacular nose dive.’

Dave frowned. ‘Clumsy _and_ stupid,’ he said absent-mindedly, without any real malice. ‘Act now and get one bloody lip, free of charge…’ He prodded Nick’s lip with his right index finger. It wasn’t too swollen, but he could feel Nick wince at the touch. 

Digging into his bag, he pulled out his water bottle. He poured some on his handkerchief and tried to clean the cut as best he could, holding Nick’s face with his left hand for support. He noticed a slight tremble as his thumb accidentally brushed the other boy’s lips. 

Suddenly his heart was racing and he wasn’t sure why. Their eyes met again. Nick’s uninjured eye reflected the light from the lamp post. He could feel Nick’s breath on his hand and became suddenly aware of the feel of his skin on his palm.

Not quite sure what he was doing, he leaned in closer, and Nick’s eyes fluttered shut.

Dave blinked, let go of the other boy’s face and pulled away. ‘I should get home,’ he mumbled. ‘See ya.’ He picked up his things and hopped on his bike, pedalling away as fast as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tory" is short for conservative.


	5. Bulletproof Cupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Bulletproof Cupid_ is an instrumental track, so there are no lyrics to put in a summary. :P

Nick didn’t dare open his eyes until he could hear Dave getting back on his bike and cycling away from him, afraid of what feelings they might betray if he did. His breathing came fast, in ragged pulls, and his heart was racing. At last he opened his eyes and stared into the darkness, after the retreating back of the boy on the bicycle. He felt a single tear slide down his cheek, and he shivered, pulling the jacket tighter around himself.

Dave’s jacket, he realised with a jolt. He had left it. Run away without it. Nick breathed in deeply. The jacket smelled of leather and boy’s sweat and deodorant and soap, with a different, sweeter scent hiding underneath. Dave’s scent. He buried his nose in it, imagining that Dave was still there.

He had thought, quite stupidly, for just a moment, that Dave had been about to kiss him. His eyes, so impossibly blue, had met Nick’s own, and the look in them had been so strong and amazing. He had wanted to lean into the touch on his cheek, wanted to kiss him, hold him and be with him. 

Dave must have sensed it. That must have been why he stopped, got up and left. Of course he hadn’t been about to kiss him. Why would he do such a thing?

But he had stopped to see how he was, and he had helped him, cleaned his wounds, listened to him and been concerned about him, and that wasn’t nothing. And he had said his name. It was the first time in as long as Nick could remember that Dave had called him Nick. Not Davis, or Nicky, or Bender or Stupid or Nerd, but Nick. And it was the first time he’d said it with such urgency in his voice, like it mattered, like Nick mattered. It had been the most beautiful thing Nick had ever heard.

It was nearly midnight when Nick dared return home. Craig had fallen asleep by the telly, the empty beer cans nowhere to be seen. Nick went upstairs to his room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

The following morning, he found Zoë back as she’d promised. Craig was in the kitchen with her, making coffee, acknowledging Nick’s presence with a nod and an unreadable look. Nick told his sister that he had tripped and fallen down the stairs. She called him clumsy, and hugged him. He stayed home from school that day, nursing his arm and listening to Death Cab for Cutie.

* * *

Dave shook his head in frustration and threw his pen down on the desk. He couldn’t concentrate on anything. He’d been battling with himself for days, unwilling to admit to himself what had actually happened in the park. A week had now passed, and he and Nick hadn’t spoken at all. No quips, no fights, nothing. Not a single glance had passed between the two of them. For all the world it was as though the two of them didn’t know each other.

As the last lesson of the day was coming to a close, Dave glanced over at his enemy, who was sitting over by the window and not appearing to be paying attention either. The area around Nick’s right eye was now dark blue and yellow. His nose looked mostly back to normal. The cut in his lip was healing, but slowly. Dave noted how Nick’s tongue flicked out every few seconds, moving over the cut. Occasionally he chewed his lip absentmindedly. No wonder the cut wasn’t healing quicker. 

His arm was apparently fine, though Dave had noticed in PE the previous Friday how bruised it looked. He wondered vaguely if Nick had reported his sister’s boyfriend, or even told his sister about it. He guessed not, or people would have heard about it. Gossip spread quickly in Windfield Green.

Dave left the classroom with Alan, Chas and Matthew Taylor. The latter had started hanging out with them more and more of late. He had moved to Windfield from Birmingham a couple of weeks after the start of term. It was Dave who had convinced him to join the football team, as he was exceptionally talented. With his athletic body and bad boy image (complete with pierced ears and a nipple ring), Matt was growing to be nearly as popular as Dave. He didn’t really seem to care much about popularity, however, hanging out with Dave and his friends mostly for something to do. He was far more interested in his friends back in Birmingham, whom he visited every other weekend or so to attend concerts and get high. It hadn’t stopped him from sleeping with about a dozen girls from school, though. Matt didn’t have girlfriends, he had fuck friends, and the girls he slept with seemed to enjoy being used.

Nick rushed past them in the corridor without sparing them a glance. Dave’s eyes followed him until he disappeared around a corner. 

‘I’ll see you at football tonight, yeah?’ said Matt to Dave.

‘Huh?’ Dave snapped out of his reverie and turned to his teammate.

‘Football!’ Matt enunciated, rolling his eyes. ‘Tonight?’

‘Oh, yeah, ’course,’ said Dave.

‘What’s up with you, anyway?’ said Alan. ‘You’ve just sat around staring all week! And you haven’t had a go at Davis in ages, either.’

Dave shook his head. ‘It’s nothing. Been a bit off colour. It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yo, is it cause o’ dat Linda?’ asked Chas. ‘Cause you know, bitches ain’t shit.’

Dave raised an eyebrow at him. Sometimes he could barely understand what Chas was on about. ‘What? No! Look, I know she’s been telling everyone that she dumped me, but it was the other way around, and I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about her anymore!’

This was only partly true. It seemed Linda had put out some stories regarding _why_ she dumped him, and all the prettiest and nicest girls were avoiding him, which pissed him off to no end, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped. Hell hath no fury, et cetera.

* * *

Dave really had been on his way to football practice, and he couldn’t have told you why he slowed down when he reached the street Nick lived on. Nor could he have told you why he craned his neck to identify which of the brick row houses was Nick’s (the one at the end of the street, with the blue front door), or why he brought his bike to a stop in front of it. As he did, though, he thought he heard music coming from the back garden. Someone was playing guitar. He crept around the house, listening.

The sound of the guitar was soft and haunting. The chords swung this way and that, through melancholic progressions. And then a voice started to sing, softly. A very familiar tenor.

‘ _Waking up has not been the same. I’ve been trying to make a change. Your look left me feeling cold, but I’ll remember it until I grow old…_ ’ A short instrumental break, then, _‘Where you touched me you left a mark. Not like the bruises, but altogether stronger. And though your lips never met mine like I thought they would, it’s like a fire burning. It’s like a fire roaring.’_ The music gained intensity now. _‘I can’t stop to think! I can’t stop to ease the pain… You don’t know I exist, and you don’t realise what goes on inside me. This bitterness that’s living inside me… I’m growing dull…’_

Dave sat down on a patch of dry grass, leaning the side of his head on the tall wooden fence, and just listened. He had had no idea that Nick could sing, or play the guitar so well. He knew he was intruding, and had the decency to feel ashamed about it, but still he didn’t get up to leave.

He sat there until it got dark, and Nick went inside.

* * *

‘Nick…’ Nick turned at the sound of the voice, and found himself facing Dave. Dave looked deeply into his eyes, and raised a hand to touch his cheek, gently stroking his bottom lip with his thumb. Nick’s heart was pounding, and his eyes closed as Dave leaned in closer, their lips finally meeting. Dave slipped an arm around Nick’s waist, pulling him closer, the kiss intensifying. Nick parted his lips, and felt Dave’s tongue enter his mouth, hot and wet and insisting. Nick threw his arms around Dave’s neck and carded his fingers through his blond locks. The smell of him was intoxicating, the feel of his body, the taste of him… Every part of him was perfect and amazing and just _Dave_ … Now Dave’s hands had started roaming across his body, grabbing his arse, stroking his neck. He broke the kiss to bite at Nick’s throat and earlobe, and Nick stifled a moan. Then—

‘Beep, beep, beep!’ insisted Nick’s alarm clock, and his eyes flew open. He blinked a few times, then realised where he was. He sank into his pillow, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

‘Shit…’ he muttered. Then he sat up to turn off the alarm clock. Pushed off the covers. Looked down and, oh yes indeed, he had a hard on. 

This seemed to happen most every morning, now. He was used to having the occasional wet dream involving his supposed enemy, but their frequency had sky-rocketed since the night in the park. Perhaps because he now had a better frame of reference for Dave’s touch and smell, the colour of his eyes, and the sound of his voice saying Nick’s name.

He sighed, happy that he at least hadn’t slept through his alarm and still had time for a shower.

* * *

Dave had returned home the previous evening, feeling more confused and frustrated than he had in a long time. He was fairly certain that song had referred to his and Nick’s meeting in the park, and he wasn’t entirely sure how that was supposed to make him feel. As a result, he had slept little that night and awoke the next morning feeling like Satan had shat in his brain.

He went through his morning lessons in a daze, occasionally glancing over at Nick, who looked just as out of it as he felt. Dave felt an overwhelming need to talk to him. Not to spar and argue, but to have a conversation, and he thought that maybe he was going slightly mad.

At lunch, Dave sat down with his friends. Alan and Chas were talking about something dull and mundane, and he wasn’t paying attention.

Then someone punched his shoulder. Not hard enough to really hurt, but it startled him and he turned around.

‘Where the _fuck_ were you yesterday?’ Matt stood over him, looking annoyed. 

‘Sorry, what?’ said Dave, blinking.

‘You missed football, you twat! Where were you?’

Dave’s brain started working again. Football! He had completely forgotten about it and gone home. ‘Oh, shit!’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry!’

‘You’d better be!’ said Matt hotly. ‘With the match coming up, you’re gonna make us look bad.’

‘I know, I’m sorry, I was on my way but something came up…’

‘What happened?’ Alan enquired casually.

 _I sat down to listen to Nick Davis playing a song about me in his back garden._ For a moment Dave considered actually saying it, just to see the looks on their faces, but decided against it. Instead he said, ’That… that’s personal.’

‘Oh, I get it, man! You got a new girlfriend!’ said Chas, gleefully.

‘I really haven’t,’ said Dave. ‘Honestly, girls are too much effort, I think I’m staying single for a while.’

‘Don’t change the subject, mate!’ said Alan. ‘You know you have an obligation to tell us about every girl you get off with.’ He grinned.

‘I told you, I wasn’t with a girl!’ argued Dave.

‘Then what the hell was so important you had to miss football over it?’ Matt asked angrily.

‘Will you stop it with the bloody interrogation already?’ Dave shouted, standing from his seat. ‘I’ve got enough on my mind as it is!’ He stormed from the cafeteria.

He ran to the boys’ lavatory, where he splashed water on his face to cool off and looked at his own reflection for a moment. He didn’t know why he’d blown up like that. They were his friends, he shouldn’t have let himself become so angry.

The door to one of the stalls behind him opened, and Dave saw Nick’s reflection in the mirror. He froze, as did Nick. After a couple of seconds, Dave turned around slowly. Nick looked away.

Dave pulled himself together. ‘Hi,’ he said nonchalantly. 

‘Hi…’ said Nick, still not looking at him. He bit his lip.

Dave was battling with himself. He had wanted to talk to Nick, but now that they were face to face, he had no idea what to say. Should he ask Nick about the song? No, that would be the same as admitting to spying on him. He studied Nick’s face. A blush was creeping up his cheeks, and he was staring resolutely at the floor. He looked lost and uncertain.

‘Erm,’ said Dave in the end, trying to break the awkward silence. ‘Look, Davis… I just…’ He swallowed, hard, and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Look, about last week—’

‘It never happened,’ said Nick quickly, looking up at him for a second, before lowering his gaze again. ‘The park, everything, it didn’t… Craig didn’t…’ He paused for a second, as though trying to catch his breath. ‘He never—‘

‘Right!’ Dave interrupted. There was another moment of silence. ‘I… I’ll see you around,’ he said, trying to catch Nick’s eye, but he was having a staring contest with the floor again. Dave sighed. ‘Bye,’ he said, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made a simple recording of the song Nick plays in his back garden. You can [listen to it here](http://thornwild.tumblr.com/post/47703111626/so-i-made-a-new-recording-of-this-thing-this).


	6. Teenage Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Shine the headlights straight into my eyes. Like the roadkill, I'm paralysed. You see through my disguise._  
>  \--'Teenage Angst', by Placebo

Dave picked at his chips with his fork, not really feeling hungry. Once again, it had been more than a week since he had last spoken to Nick, and he found that he, in a very odd way, missed him.

They had had a good thing going, he thought. The fighting, the sparring, it had been his favourite pastime. It had given him something to look forward to. Lately he just felt apathetic and sort of irritated all the time. Why did Nick have to go and ruin everything by talking about being friends, and then going around avoiding him?

He looked up from his plate and scanned the cafeteria. He could see Nick over in a corner, reading a book, his food forgotten. He looked just as he always did, tie slightly loose and shirt sticking out from under his green sweatshirt, concentrating deeply on his novel. Every once in a while he shifted in his seat, or chewed his lip. Then he would look up, glance around absentmindedly, and return to the novel. Every time he looked up, Dave looked resolutely away.

This silence had gone on for long enough, Dave decided, and stood up. 

‘Oi, Davis!’ he said as he approached the other boy, putting on his best smirk. ‘You have been all quiet for _days_! What’s the matter?’

Nick looked up at him. ‘Stop talking to me,’ he said shortly.

‘What’s your problem?’ asked Dave, a bit taken aback. 

‘ _You_ are my fucking problem!’ replied Nick, hotly. ‘You and your bloody attitude! Well guess what? I’m not buying it!’

Dave felt genuinely puzzled. ‘Buying what, exactly?’

‘You think that you can do whatever you want, just cause you’re good looking and popular, like nothing can touch you! Well, it can. You’re bloody well mortal like the rest of us!’ He stood up and rushed from the room, leaving his tray behind.

Dave frowned. What was he on about all of a sudden? With an annoyed huff, Dave abandoned the cafeteria as well. Out in the corridor, he saw Nick disappear around a corner. Dave turned towards the exit and saw Matt trotting towards him.

‘Oh, good!’ said Matt. ‘I was looking for you. Your bike’s missing!’

‘What?’ Dave stared at him for a moment. Then the pieces began to fall into place. ‘Davis!’ he growled. It had to be! That was why he had blown up like that. ‘Cheers, mate,’ he told Matt, and then he turned around and headed off in the direction Nick had gone.

* * *

Nick stared at his reflection. Then he closed his eyes and sighed, backing away into the wall next to the urinal. He regretted getting so emotional. He just couldn’t be near Dave right now. It was becoming unbearable, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t stop thinking about him. Whenever the other boy spoke to him he wanted to kiss him to shut him up, but that wasn’t really an option.

So he had tried just avoiding him again, but Dave, predictably, would have none of that, it seemed. Maybe he would just move to his dad in Plymouth and never have to speak to Dave Thompson again. Or just quit school. Who needed GCSEs, anyway?

Right then the door flew open and Nick jumped. Dave grabbed him by the collar and shoved him up against one of the stalls. ‘Where. Is. The. Bike?’ he growled through gritted teeth.

Nick found himself, once again, staring into those unfathomable blue eyes, and his knees weakened. This was the closest they’d ever been. He could breathe in Dave’s scent, feel his heat. The two were so close their hips brushed together and Nick fought the animal reaction threatening to surface with all his might. If he moved two inches closer he could kiss him. He was fully aware of how fucked up it was to be turned on by the situation he was in, but found himself not caring very much.

Somehow, even through these thoughts he managed to stammer, ‘Wha—what bike?’

‘ _My_ bike, you little twat!’ Dave said, furiously. ‘Where is it?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Nick, quite truthfully, anger bubbling inside him now. ‘Why don’t you ask the one who took it, cause I never touched your precious bike!’

‘You absolute cunt!’ Dave shouted. He raised his fist and landed a punch straight in Nick’s gut. Nick coughed and doubled up with pain, clutching his stomach. ‘Confess!’ Dave commanded.

‘I didn’t do it…’ Nick groaned, shaking his head. 

‘Liar!’ Dave uttered in a contemptuous whisper. He grabbed Nick by the shoulders and shoved him to the floor. Then he turned around and stomped off.

Nick picked himself up, slowly. He took a few deep breaths and felt hot tears sting his cheeks. He washed his face in the sink and stared at his reflection again. How could he possibly have these feelings for someone who was this cruel to him? Dave had no business being that fit.

But if there was one thing Nick hated, it was being wrongfully accused, of anything, and as the pain in his abdomen lessened, his anger grew. The arrogant bastard! How could he possibly think Nick would sink so low as to steal from him? To what end? Nick heaved an angry sigh and dried his face off with tissue paper. All bets were off, now.

* * *

‘What the hell happened?’ Mr. Reynolds spoke in an exasperated tone. ‘After our chat on the first day, there have hardly been any incidents, so what on Earth is going on now?’

Nick looked away, absentmindedly chewing his lip. He wasn’t entirely certain what had happened himself, if he was honest. After an English lesson full of particularly mean comments, he had accidentally-on-purpose tripped Dave, and then all hell had broken loose. The result was that Dave had hurt his knee, and the cut in Nick’s lip, which had nearly healed, had opened up again, and their teacher had sent them both off to Mr. Reynolds who now looked at them with an expression of mixed anger and resignation.

‘He stole my bike, sir,’ said Dave through gritted teeth.

‘No, I didn’t! I never went near it, he’s lying!’ Nick retaliated angrily.

Mr. Reynolds waved a hand at them. ‘Settle down, lads!’ he said. ‘David, if your bicycle has been stolen, you need to report that to the school, not take matters into your own hands! And Nicholas,’ (Nick winced at the sound of his full given name), ‘if you are being harassed, you tell a teacher, you don’t retaliate and escalate the conflict!’ 

He sat back in his chair and looked at both of them in turn. He sighed and rubbed his temples. ‘I’m giving you both detention, tomorrow afternoon,’ he said. ‘Together. And I expect you both to act civilly to one another!’

‘Yes, sir,’ the two boys said in unison, glaring at one another out of the corners of their eyes. Then they left his office.

They walked in silence through the deserted corridor, glancing at each other from time to time. Nick wondered if he should say something. Somehow the anger had now left him, and instead he felt only a sort of empty pinching in his gut.

In the end, he said, ‘I really didn’t take your bike, you know.’

‘Like hell you didn’t!’ said Dave, and before Nick knew it, he was being shoved up against the wall again. His heart was pounding. Dave’s eyes were dark and glaring, and his jaw was set. Nick could feel his breath on his face.

That was when Nick did something highly irrational.

He grabbed Dave’s face in his hands and brought their lips together, hard. Dave’s mouth was already slightly open, and Nick was met with no resistance when he pushed his tongue inside, really tasting for the first time what he’d dreamt about for ages. 

It was like an explosion. For a moment, Nick forgot about everything else. His ears filled with the crashing sound of waves and he didn’t care that they were in the middle of a corridor at school. He ran his fingers through Dave’s hair, pulled him closer, relishing the feel of his body against him.

Dave seemed to be responding instinctively, out of sheer surprise, and at first he let Nick pull him towards him without putting up a fight. Being this close to Dave, breathing his breath, holding onto him, felt thrilling and dangerous and so hot.

It only lasted a moment, though. Then Dave broke contact very suddenly and wrenched himself out of Nick’s grasp. He backed away a few steps, just staring. He was panting, his face flushed and his eyes wide. His lips were red from the kiss. He had never looked more gorgeous, with his disheveled hair and his shirt slightly rumpled. Nick suddenly felt embarrassed and looked away, his heart still pounding wildly in his chest.

‘Wha—’ Dave swallowed, took a few shallow breaths, and tried again. ‘What the actual fuck was that?’

Nick opened his mouth, wanting to say something, anything. But he had nothing to say. He looked up and met Dave’s eyes for a moment. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find there, but all he found was wide-eyed confusion and shock. 

Nick ran, leaving Dave alone in the corridor. He didn’t bother to fetch any of his things. He ran all the way home.

* * *

Nick rushed up to his room when he got in and slammed the door behind him. Not even bothering to take off his shoes, he threw himself down on the bed. Hyperventilating, he gasped into his pillow, trying to calm himself.

‘Stop it, stop it, stop it!’ he whispered as the sobs started coming. ‘You baby, stop it!’ Then he screamed into the pillow, slamming his fist into the mattress, glad that no one else was home.

After a few moments he turned over on his side, his breathing slowing but his heart still racing. His face was hot and sweaty and his cheeks were red and moist with tears. He reached for the remote to his iPod dock, which was lying on his bedside table, and pressed play, delving into Placebo’s first album.

He had blown his cover. What would happen now? Would Dave tell his friends? If he did, soon everyone would know, and Nick’s life would be over. Even so, he knew that that wasn’t why he was upset. He was mortified, sure, at having given in to his impulses like that, without thinking about the consequences. But the thing that really hurt had been the look on Dave’s face. The way he had pulled himself away, the look of disbelief, his words… Nick had imagined their hypothetical first kiss many, many times. It had never happened like that.

And still, he thought back on it and his stomach tingled, his heart pounded in his chest and his palms became sweaty. He was still, obviously, absolutely besotted. He punched the mattress again in frustration, absolutely dreading his detention. Two hours in a room with Dave.

Nick turned over on his back, letting schoolboy fantasies invade his mind as he imagined arriving to detention to find only Dave in the room. It was so much easier now than before to imagine the feel of his lips, because he didn’t have to imagine, he could remember. He closed his eyes, his breath quickening again. Dream-Dave was holding him close, kissing him, nibbling at his neck, moaning in his ear. His tongue moved over Nick’s collar bone. His hand was in his hair.

Nick’s breath caught in his throat and he moved his hand absentmindedly to his crotch, palming himself through his trousers, as Dream-Dave locked his lips to Nick’s, breathing into his mouth, pushing his tongue inside, and Nick came in his pants like a kid. He felt the wet patch spread through the fabric and moisten his trousers. 

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, not bothering to feel stupid. He breathed a heavy sigh before getting up to take a shower.

* * *

Dave sat on his bed, knees pulled up to his chin, staring gloomily ahead. His father had not been happy to hear of his detention, and Dave was grounded again. Additionally, his knee was getting painful and stiff where he’d banged it against a desk when he fell, and he was subsequently excused from football and the upcoming match. He could live with that, though. Football wasn’t as much fun as it used to be, these days. While it still served as a way to take his mind off things, it wasn’t really enough anymore, and it added another level of stress to his life that he didn’t feel like he really needed.

He closed his eyes, and images swam in his mind, unbidden. Nick looking up at him with wide, grey eyes. Reaching out to him. Pulling his face towards him.

Dave had been so surprised he had been unable to fight him. Then, before he knew it, his heart had been racing and he had been forced to stifle a moan threatening to push forth.

He shook his head, unwilling to admit it. He had never even explored the possibility that another boy might be able to make him feel… well, _anything_. He tried to rationalise it away, thinking that he just liked snogging, that he had just forgotten for a second who it was sticking their tongue in his mouth. Nick had been a warm body, and it had been a while, and for a second Dave had just enjoyed the feeling of being kissed again.

But Nick was a _boy_. Regardless of how long it had been (and it hadn’t been _that_ long, barely a month since he and Linda had broken it off) he shouldn’t have had that reaction to another boy kissing him.

He was certain of one thing, however. Nick hadn’t taken his bike. It didn’t make any actual sense for him to do that. And the thought of what he’d done to him in the loo left Dave with a sick, guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach. The two boys hadn’t had a proper physical fight since they were about eight years old. It had always been fair. They’d been evenly matched, verbally, but physically Dave was a lot stronger.

Dave had never really been a violent person, and he wasn’t entirely sure what had made him do it. He supposed that his general mood of late might have had something to do with it. Those feelings of irritation and annoyance, with no apparent reason, had been piling up for weeks, he realised. A few days before, Alan had asked in jest if he was suffering from PMS and Dave had nearly punched him in the face. 

Dave heaved an annoyed sigh and lay down on his back. He would have to apologise to Nick the next day. It was the least he could to.

* * *

The following day passed far too slowly for Dave’s liking. He just wanted to get to his detention so he could make his apology. (It did, in fact, occur to him how ridiculous it was to be looking forward to a detention, but he ignored that thought.)

Their detention was scheduled to begin after the last lesson of the day. Dave’s heart fluttered annoyingly in his chest as he walked to the right room. The teacher who was overseeing wasn’t there yet, and neither was Nick, so he hovered in the doorway a moment. Then he heard approaching footsteps and turned around to see Nick coming towards him. The other froze in his tracks a few feet away and stared at him. He looked nervous.

‘Er… Hey,’ said Dave uncertainly, pulling at his own sleeve.

‘Hi,’ Nick responded slowly, his eyes narrowing a bit.

They stood in silence for a moment. Nick bit his lip and looked away. Dave was first to speak.

‘Look… I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.’ He paused to see if Nick would say anything, or look at him. He didn’t. ‘I get that you didn’t steal my bike. I’m really sorry I accused you, I know how it feels to be wrongly accused and I… I’m…’ He halted, frowning. ‘I’m really, really sorry I hit you. I shouldn’t have done that, no matter what. I just… I lost control, dunno what came over me, just…’ Now it was Dave’s turn to look away, ashamed.

‘It’s okay,’ said Nick, quietly. ‘It’s all right, I forgive you.’ 

Dave looked up and their eyes met. Nick had a pained expression on his face. He looked so small and miserable that Dave wanted nothing more than to hug him.

The teacher arrived just then. ‘Oh, you’re both here,’ he said, looking pleased. ‘Well, get inside, both of you.’

He set them to do lines. Occasionally, Dave glanced over at Nick. A few times he was sure Nick had been looking at him, because he looked suddenly and intently down at his page, a slow blush creeping up his neck. 

When the teacher stepped out for a cigarette break, Dave put down his pencil and turned to look at Nick properly. Nick stopped writing too, and looked up hesitantly, their eyes meeting again.

‘So…’ Dave said, holding out the ‘o’ a bit longer than necessary. ‘I was just thinking…’ He paused to arrange his thoughts. ‘Look, I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I’d much rather… I mean…’ He fell silent again and looked down at his hands.

Nick swallowed audibly. Then he spoke. ‘Maybe we could hang out some time.’

Dave’s head snapped up. ‘Yeah?’ he said, a bit too enthusiastically. ‘I mean, sure, we could do that…’

They looked at each other for a moment, as though sizing each other up. Nick’s courage seemed to have run out as he was once again quiet.

‘Maybe you could give me your number?’ Dave prompted after a while.

‘Oh,’ said Nick, blinking. He looked down at his desk, suddenly blushing furiously. Then he tore a piece of paper out of his notebook and jotted down eleven digits on it, handing it to Dave. ‘Here,’ he said, unnecessarily.

‘Thanks,’ said Dave. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. Then he looked up at Nick again. Slowly, a grin spread across his face. Nick blinked, looked away, looked back at Dave, and a shy smile ghosted his features as well.

Dave gave a short snort of laughter and looked away. ‘What are we like?’ he said. ‘I mean, how long has this been going on? It’s just stupid! And I’ve just been acting a fucking arse lately…’

Next to him, he could hear Nick break down into a fit of giggles, and looked up at him, amazed. ‘Oi, it’s not that funny!’ Dave said.

‘Yeah, it is!’ Nick replied, looking up at him, and promptly looking away again as outright laughter took him.

Dave started laughing, too, not entirely certain at what. ‘Yeah, it is,’ he agreed, nodding.

After a few moments they both regained some level of composure, and Dave stretched out his right hand. ‘Friends?’ he said.

Nick looked at the hand for a moment, a quizzical smile playing on his lips. Then he took it. ‘Friends.’


	7. My Sweet Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Never thought you'd make me perspire. Never thought I'd do you the same. Never thought I'd fill with desire. Never thought I'd feel so ashamed._  
>  \--'My Sweet Prince', by Placebo

_God, I am so bored!_

Nick read the text with a small smile. Dave was still grounded, and would be for another couple of days, as punishment for landing himself in detention. As a result, the two of them hadn’t yet had an opportunity to hang out, but Dave had texted him the moment he got home from the detention, and kept doing so several times a day since then.

 _Aww, poor thing!_ Nick texted back. _Knee still not well enough for football either?_

He put down his phone on his bedside table and pulled his duvet over himself, staring at it. A few seconds later, it buzzed again.

_No. Thanks a lot! :P_

Nick had the decency to feel ashamed. It was, after all, he who had tripped Dave and caused him to bang his knee.

 _Sorry,_ he wrote. _Hope it’s not too painful… :(_

 _No, just annoying,_ came the response a minute later. _My cousin’s coming to stay tomorrow, though, so I’ll be less bored then. :)_

 _That’s good,_ Nick wrote, feeling a little jealous. He wished he could go to Dave’s house and entertain him. Not that Dave would be allowed to have friends over while grounded, of course, even if they weren’t Nick. _Have they had any luck tracking down your bike, btw?_

 _Nope,_ came the reply. _And they probably won’t._

 _That sucks…_ Nick wrote back, not sure what else to say. 

 _We need to find the time to meet up soon,_ came Dave’s reply after a couple of minutes. 

Nick felt his heart flutter as he wrote back. _Yeah, I’ve been thinking that. I want to get to know you as not my enemy… :P_

He waited with bated breath for Dave’s reply. He didn’t have to wait long.

 _Yeah, me too,_ came the reply. _Maybe I’ll get my parents out of the house some day and you can come over._

Nick’s breathing quickened. _Maybe,_ he wrote. _But, seriously, it’s almost midnight, we need to sleep. Stop texting me! :P_

_All right. Good night. x_

Nick knew the ‘x’ didn’t mean anything, but that didn’t stop him from smiling wider.

_Sweet dreams. x_

* * *

Dave and Matt were, without peer, the two most attractive guys in school. Although Nick only really cared about Dave, he had often noticed his dark-haired teammate as well.

They were in the changing room after PE, on a Friday afternoon. Nick was sitting over in a corner, trying to blend into the background. The changing room was the most difficult place for him to be—simultaneously terrifying and potentially arousing. He’d never been any good at physical education, always the last picked for teams and frequently ridiculed, and why he had to keep attending lessons for it in year eleven when he had absolutely no intention of taking a PE GCSE was beyond him. He always waited until everyone else had finished before hitting the showers himself, and always did his best not to look when the others got undressed, especially Dave.

He couldn’t always help himself, though. He glanced over at Dave and Matt. Dave was in his pants, towel draped over his shoulder, his wet hair falling in strands across his forehead. Matt was in the process of zipping up his jeans.

The two were of an almost equal height. Matt’s body was toned and slim, much like Dave’s, but with alabaster skin rather than Dave’s golden complexion. He had unruly dark hair and pierced ears and a nipple ring, and looked for all the world like a rock star. If Dave were to ever go gay for anyone, surely it would more likely be for someone like Matt than for Nick. Matt struck him as the type who would try it out for a laugh, too.

Matt said something Nick couldn’t hear, and Dave burst out laughing. Nick had to close his eyes and take a moment to steady his breathing. He loved that laugh… It wasn’t the mocking laugh he had got so used to hearing over the years, but Dave’s genuine laugh, the one he had used when they talked during their detention. He opened his eyes again and spared one quick, longing glance for Dave.

‘What you staring at, Gay-boy?’ said a voice. Nick started and his head snapped up. Alan was looming over him, smirking.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ said Nick in a flat tone. ‘Piss off. Please.’

‘Were you looking at Matt? Or Dave?’ Alan grinned nastily. ‘Or both? Not that I’d blame you, they’re both quite fit, don’t you think, Gay-boy?’

‘Stop calling me that,’ said Nick quietly, staring down at his fists. 

‘Why?’ Alan mocked. ‘Isn’t that what you are, Gay-boy? Can’t even admit it, can you? Pathetic!’

‘You know, they’ve done studies that prove that the most homophobic men are all closet cases,’ Nick retorted casually, feeling brave. ‘I wonder what nasty fantasies you’ve got involving those two. Threesomes in the shower? Your own private lemonparty, perhaps? That what you think about when you have a wank?’

The punch was almost worth it for the look on Alan’s face. Almost. In hindsight, Nick thought it was entirely worth it if the stupid git fell prey to curiosity and googled lemonparty when he got home.

‘Oi, that’s enough!’ came Dave’s voice. He only had to touch Alan’s shoulder and the other took a few steps back.

‘He called me a bender!’ Alan spat.

‘Aww, that’s just wishful thinking cause he likes you!’ Dave said with a grin. ‘Come on, Alan, leave it be. Not worth getting in trouble over if a teacher comes in, right?’

Alan’s shoulders slumped, and he retreated, like a dog with its tail between its legs. Nick looked on in fascination and was hit with a sudden, stunning realisation. Alan liked Dave! Nick doubted even Alan was aware of it, but it made too much sense to be fiction. Alan, the greatest homophobe in town, was repressing his latent homosexual feelings for his best friend. It was too good not to be true!

Later, he realised how sad it really was. No wonder Alan was so angry all the time, forced to carry around those feelings without fully understanding them, and without having anyone to talk to. Nick could empathise with that.

At the time, however, he was simply full of glee at the thought of having something to hit Alan with the next time he cornered him.

‘Hey, Nicky,’ said Dave as he buttoned his shirt. ‘Showers are free now. If you hurry along, one of us might join ya…’ He left it implied, and the majority of the neanderthals in the room guffawed gracelessly.

Nick blushed and turned away, taking out his towel and undressing very slowly while the others filed out of the changing room. When they were all gone, he finally removed his pants and got in the shower, opting for cold as the more efficient option for getting rid of the stiffness between his legs.

When he came back out, a text had arrived on his mobile. It was from Dave.

_Sorry for acting like a dick. It seemed like the thing to say at the time…_

Nick smiled. _It’s all right,_ he wrote back. _Got to keep up appearances, yeah?_ He frowned and hit backspace, trying again. _They’re your friends, what can you do?_ Send.

 _You’re my friend, too,_ came the reply, and Nick felt his stomach flutter when he read it.

He pocketed his mobile and put on his jacket. It buzzed again.

_My cousin’s going back to Manchester tomorrow, and my parents are going out of town for some business dinner thing. I’m not grounded anymore, so you wanna come over and play some video games?_

Nick grinned widely. Finally! 

 _I’d love to!_ he wrote quickly. At last it felt like his luck was changing.

* * *

Dave looked down at his mobile and smiled. Nick was coming to his house the very next day. Not sure why, he felt suddenly nervous. His mind flitted back to the moment in the corridor the previous week. He still wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was Nick gay, or had he had some other reason for doing what he did? The kiss combined with the song and that awkward moment in the park certainly made for a strong case. And if he was, how did that make Dave himself feel?

He had no idea. He had never realised how out of touch he was with his emotions before. Now he was second-guessing everything he’d ever felt. He had come to recognise that he had felt _something_ when Nick kissed him, and while it had been overshadowed by the subsequent surprise at the time, it had not been disgust or anger.

So, what then? Attraction? The thought did not, in fact, make him cringe. Would being attracted to a boy be so bad? Kissing a boy? Sleeping with one? He had no idea what boys did in bed together, but he found he could easily conjure up an idea, and he felt his cheeks flush a little at the thought. What would it feel like to hold a boy? Harder, firmer than a girl. And closer, no tits in the way. What would it be like to have a boyfriend? Less complicated, more straight forward?

Ideas and pictures flashed through his mind then, and he found that he was strangely comfortable with them. 

He was reminded of the cliché of the little boy pulling the little girl’s pigtails because he liked her, and wondered if it was possible that all these years of fighting with Nick had simply been because he actually liked him and had no way of expressing it.

It seemed somehow plausible. All he knew was that he was looking forward to the following day. Perhaps their meeting would provide some answers.

* * *

Nick logged onto Messenger when he got home. Mel was online.

 _Hey, Mel,_ he wrote. _Guess what? I’m going over to D’s house tomorrow!_

 _Really?_ Mel replied. _That’s cool. :)_

_I’m really excited. His parents are out, apparently. We’re gonna play video games and have pizza._

_That’s great, Nick,_ Mel wrote. _Look, I have to go. Still visiting family, can’t really be on the computer too long. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow night, you can tell me how it went. :)_

She logged off. Nick felt his heart skip a beat as he leaned back in his seat. He was going to Dave’s house! He wondered what it would be like… But at the same time, he dreaded it. He would be alone with Dave, in Dave’s house, just the two of them, and what he wanted most of all was just to kiss him, to hold him and be with him, and he just couldn’t.

Still, he closed his eyes and imagined it, like he had so many times before. Dave looking into his eyes, the way he’d done that night in the park. Dave, reaching out to touch his cheek, leaning in close, their lips touching for what felt like the first time. Tentatively at first, perhaps. Softly. Then fiercer, hungrier, Dave’s hands in his hair, Dave’s scent, the taste of his lips, the feel of his body, pressed tightly up against Nick’s. 

Nick’s breath caught in his throat as he undid his belt and stuck a hand down his pants. Dave’s arms around him, Dave’s hands touching him, Dave’s tongue in his mouth. Dave rutting against him…

He came with a gasp, and realised that tears were staining his cheeks. He felt suddenly dirty. What would Dave think of him if he knew that Nick had used him as fap fodder almost since he learned how to masturbate? He would be disgusted, Nick was sure of it. Angry and disgusted, and he would never want to speak to him again. Nick laughed bitterly.

He grabbed a wad of tissues from his desk drawer to clean away the cum. Then he sighed. Only one day to go…

* * *

Nick trotted up the road towards Dave’s house. It was unseasonably warm, but he could see clouds gathering above him. It looked like it might rain. Not that that was anything new. It was four o’clock in the afternoon.

Dave’s street was a bit on the outskirts, with only farms and farmland beyond it. All the houses on this street were very posh (Nick passed the Langmann residence with distaste), and poshest among them was the one inhabited by Dave and his family. It was fairly old and Victorian in style, though it had since been completely renovated, inside and out.

Nick had reached the hedgerow lining the large garden. He took off his headphones and turned off his iPod. Up ahead he saw the gate to the front yard open, and Dave stepped out. He was about to call out when he saw the girl next to him. She was short and blond, and quite curvy, though far from fat. A taxi pulled up to the house, and Dave hugged the girl tightly. Then he kissed her.

Nick stopped dead in his tracks. ‘No…’ he whispered. He had resigned himself to the idea that nothing may ever happen between Dave and himself, indeed that it probably wouldn’t, because Dave wasn’t gay. But seeing him kiss someone else…

Just then they broke apart, and Dave looked up and saw Nick. He waved.

Nick spun around, and ran.

He ran as hard as he could, not looking back, not wanting to see Dave. Maybe Dave would think it hadn’t really been Nick he had seen? He ran until he reached a disused bus stop. Then he sat down on an old wooden bench with peeling blue paint, lungs burning with the exertion, hot tears staining his cheeks. He tried to brush them away, angry with himself. Being allowed the chance to get to know Dave was more than he could have ever hoped for, he had no right to be angry if Dave got a girlfriend. 

It started to rain. Just as well, then no one would be able to see that he’d been crying.

He sat like that for a while, letting the cold rain wash away everything. Why had he run away like that? How would he explain to Dave what had happened? _‘I realised I’d left the kettle on.’_ Sure, that would work…

‘I hate to break it to you, mate, but the buses stopped running here years ago.’

Nick didn’t have to turn around. He could always recognise Dave’s tenor voice. Strong, like Dave himself, it had a kind tone to it now. He also didn’t need to see his face to know the look on it. Worry. Pity.

‘Why’d you run?’ asked Dave, sitting down next to him. Nick didn’t answer. What could he possibly say?

‘That was my cousin, Mellie,’ Dave continued conversationally. ‘She’s my best friend in the world. She lives in Manchester, though. She just came down for a visit.’

Nick continued to look away. Why was Dave explaining himself?

‘You like me, don’t you, Nick?’ asked Dave then.

The bluntness of the question startled Nick so much that he looked up to meet Dave’s eye despite himself.

‘I mean, obviously you do, or you wouldn’t have kissed me that time. I only kissed Mellie on the cheek, by the way, but I suppose it would be hard to tell at that distance…’

 _This is it_ , thought Nick miserably. _This is where he calls me a fucking queer and leaves and never talks to me again. He’s figured it out._

Dave continued. ‘I’ve been trying to make sense of it. The kiss, I mean. I wanted to talk about it, but wouldn’t have known what to say. And it’s not really something you can bring up by text. Alan always said you were gay.’ He chuckled. ‘Of course, he means it as an insult. Most people around here probably would. We’re a bit behind the times, aren’t we?’ He fell silent, studying Nick’s face curiously.

Nick looked away again, confused. He didn’t quite understand what Dave was saying. When Dave didn’t speak again, he fidgeted uncomfortably on the bench.

‘I should probably go home…’ he mumbled and stood up. 

Dave stood, too. Shook his head and uttered a short laugh. ‘You really are thick sometimes,’ he said. Then he took Nick’s hand.

Nick jumped at the touch, as though an electric charge had passed between them. Dave’s hand was warm and strong, and slightly bigger than his.

Nick swallowed, and turned his head to look at Dave. The other boy was smiling, and it was not a sarcastic smile, or a derisive one. It was filled with warmth.

‘Come on,’ said Dave, kindly. ‘Let’s go to my house.’


	8. Because I Want You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Don't give up on the dream, don't give up on the wanting, and everything that's true. Don't give up on the dream, don't give up on the wanting... Because I want you too._  
>  \--'Because I Want You', by Placebo

Dave’s jeans were far too long at the leg, but only a little bit too wide for Nick. He had hung his wet clothes in the en suite bathroom to Dave’s bedroom to dry, and looked around as he zipped up the jeans. Dave’s room was more than twice the size of his own. Nearly everything in the room was twice the size of the things he owned, too. Dave had a queen size bed, a thirty inch computer screen and a walk-in closet that was, on its own, nearly as big as Nick’s entire bedroom. Everything was beautifully decorated in various shades of blue, green and off-white, though the effect was rather ruined by the dirty laundry and general messiness one would commonly associate with the bedroom of a normal teenage boy.

Nick tiptoed down the stairs into the living room, lingering in the doorway. It was a handsome room, decorated in creamy whites and earth tones, with a comfortable looking sofa in beige suede leather and matching arm chairs, several bookshelves in dark wood lining the walls, a glass topped coffee table and a very large flat screen TV. There were several paintings on the walls, and an antique, Victorian fireplace. The rain was still pitter-pattering on the tall windows facing the garden. The sky outside was darkening. 

Dave was reclining in the sofa. He had gone for the rather more leisurely option of pyjama bottoms and a very silky looking dressing gown, and he was reading a magazine. He was wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses, and his blond hair was still damp from the rain. He looked so delicious where he sat that Nick had to stifle a whimper.

All the same, Dave must have heard him enter, because he looked up, smiling, and took off his glasses, laying the magazine aside (somewhere in the back of his mind Nick managed to note that it was a science journal).

‘Hey, you,’ said Dave softly. 

Nick blushed. ‘Hi…’ he said, looking away. ‘I, er… I never knew you needed glasses.’

‘Just for reading,’ Dave explained. ‘I wear contacts to school.’

Nick nodded, his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor a few feet in front of him.

‘Well, come on, then,’ said Dave, encouragingly. ‘Have a seat.’ He scooted over a bit on the sofa, making room.

Nick looked up, his tongue absentmindedly flicking out of his mouth and brushing his upper lip. He took a hesitant step forward, drew a deep breath, and went to sit down, looking as casual as he could possibly manage.

He sat down gingerly, pulling his left foot up to rest under his right knee, and glanced uncertainly at Dave.

‘So,’ said Dave cheerfully. ‘What would you like to do? I’ve got XBox, movies, we can pop popcorn, heat a pizza… Whatever you like, really.’ He smiled at Nick. ‘Honestly, just tell me what you want.’

 _God, I want_ you _, you mad person,_ Nick wanted to say, but he didn’t. Instead he said, ‘I… I don’t really know… What games have you got?’

In the end they picked a random dual-player first person shooter and amused themselves with that for a while, occasionally glancing over at one another.

‘Haha, yes!’ Dave exclaimed triumphantly when he creamed Nick for the third time.

Nick laughed as well, putting down the controller and leaning back in his seat, a bit more at ease now.

‘You are way too fucking good at this, you know,’ he said shaking his head.

‘I’ve been grounded for a week and couldn’t play football. What else was I supposed to do with my time?’ Dave joked. He put down his controller on the coffee table and had a sip of cherry Tango. ‘What can I say? I have no life.’

Nick snorted a laugh at this. ‘What, you? Mr. Popular? No life?’

‘Not one that matters much, anyway,’ said Dave, shrugging. He pulled up one leg under him and turned so he was facing Nick, resting his elbow on the backrest and his face in his hand. He was still smiling, but it was a different sort of smile now, more serious. His blue eyes were boring into Nick’s, making him feel exposed and bare.

Nick felt a flutter in his gut, and before he knew what he was doing, he had leaned forward and placed a kiss on the other boy’s lips. A small, chaste one, no tongue. Dave made a sharp intake of breath, and Nick broke the kiss, petrified. His heart rate had doubled, and his palms were sweaty. He waited for what felt like an eternity, his face mere inches away from Dave’s. Was he about to get punched again?

But Dave lifted a hand to Nick’s cheek and ran his thumb over his bottom lip. Nick shivered at the touch and closed his eyes.

And then Dave brought their lips together, and it was as though something erupted inside Nick. Dave’s tongue traced the contours of his lips, and Nick parted them willingly, welcoming Dave’s tongue into his mouth. The kiss was warm and soft and tasted of cherry Tango and Dave smelled like rain and clean clothes and autumn.

Dave slipped an arm around Nick’s waist and pulled him closer, his other hand tracing the line of his jaw up to his ear and then disappearing into his hair. He lowered Nick onto his back on the sofa, and his dressing gown fell open to reveal his toned torso. Nick put his arms around Dave’s neck as the kiss intensified. 

Dave broke contact with Nick’s lips, and instead kissed a trail down his cheek and his jaw to his neck, where he started to lick and suck and nibble, and Nick threw his head back and uttered a groan. Dave seemed to like hearing that, because his mouth became more insisting. There appeared to be a direct line from Nick’s neck to his cock, because the feel of Dave’s lips and teeth and tongue there, combined with the weight of his body on top of him was almost enough to make Nick come right then and there.

Dave found Nick’s earlobe and sucked on that for a moment, enticing small whimpers from Nick’s mouth, before returning to capture his lips again. He bit gently at Nick’s lower lip and let his tongue flit in and out of his mouth teasingly. Nick moaned into Dave’s mouth, feeling as though his entire body was about to burst.

Now, Dave slipped a hand under Nick’s t-shirt (technically Dave’s t-shirt) and stroked the soft skin of his stomach. Nick’s hips bucked involuntarily, and Dave smiled into the kiss.

‘Bit eager, are we?’ he said in a throaty voice. Nick could make no reply, too amazed at what this was doing to his body. Dave’s hand moved upwards to his chest, brushing his nipple, which hardened at the touch. Breaking the kiss and looking into Nick’s eyes again, Dave squeezed the nipple gently between thumb and forefinger. Nick drew a shuddering breath and bit his lip. Dave shifted a little, and Nick felt the heaviness of Dave’s cock against his leg, through the layers of fabric.

‘Oh fuck, no!’ Nick gasped, as his hips bucked again. ‘Dave, stop, I can’t—‘

But it was too late. With a spasm, he came in his pants, shuddering all over.

* * *

Nick looked away, blushing furiously. ‘I’m sorry…’ he mumbled, as Dave climbed off him, surveying his face.

‘Hey, don’t worry,’ said Dave softly. ‘Happens to the best of us, doesn’t it?’

Nick sat up, still not meeting Dave’s gaze. Dave ignored his hard-on as best he could and sat next to him. He felt suddenly a little awkward. That had turned him on so much more than it ought to have done, though he supposed that imagining kissing Nick in the first place should have been a clue that he might not be entirely straight after all.

‘Really, Nick, it’s okay,’ he tried again. He reached out and touched Nick’s shoulder. Nick quickly stood.

‘I’m just… I’ll go change.’

‘All right,’ said Dave, uncertainly. ‘Hey, if you need to borrow clean pants there are some in my room. Top right drawer of the dresser.’

Nick said nothing, and disappeared into the hallway. A moment later, Dave heard him climb the stairs. Dave leaned back on the sofa, heaving a heavy sigh. He tried to examine his feelings again. He had enjoyed that, and he’d wanted to do it. That had to mean that he was some degree of bisexual. He had wanted to do it to _Nick_ , and no one else, so that had to mean he was attracted to Nick.

Was there anything else he wanted from Nick? He picked his way through a mental list, rationally and analytically. He wanted to snog him, that much was clear. Did he also want to hold him? Yes, holding sounded like a thing to do. Spend time with him? Well, he certainly wanted to get to know him better.

So how did he feel about Nick? He found him attractive. His features, though not classically beautiful, had a sort of elegance to them that he hadn’t seen in anyone else. His eyes were grey and sad and haunting, and amazingly gorgeous, but what he loved best about them was the way they lit up when Nick smiled. The way he got embarrassed, looked away, bit his lip, was adorable.

Hearing Nick play guitar and sing that time had made Dave wonder what else he didn’t know about him. He was fascinated and he wanted to learn.

Nick reappeared a few minutes later, back in his own jeans which were now mostly dry. He stood in the doorway again, as though unsure of whether he was welcome. Dave tried to smile encouragingly, and Nick returned to the sofa.

‘I’m sorry if I moved too quickly,’ said Dave after a moment’s awkward silence. ‘I guess you don’t really have much experience, so really it was my fault…’

Nick looked up at him and smiled uncertainly. ‘No, I should have… You know, I should have had some self-control.’

They sat still, looking at one another for a few moments.

This time, Nick broke the silence. ‘So… What happens now?’

Dave swallowed and looked at his hands. ‘I dunno,’ he said slowly. ‘I mean, I guess I’d like to, you know, spend some more time with you…’

‘Me too,’ said Nick quickly. 

Dave hazarded a look, and their eyes met again. ‘And, uh…’ he began, not sure how to phrase the next part. ‘I’d like to do more of… _that_ … Like, _a lot_ of that.’ He felt his face flush.

‘Yeah,’ said Nick, not breaking eye contact this time. ‘Yeah, I think that sounds like a good plan.’ He smiled, and that smile was like a whole new side of him; a Nick that was sexy and daring, and Dave realised that he had barely scratched the surface of this boy who was so much more than he had ever imagined, and he wanted more.

So he leaned over and kissed Nick again, more gently this time. Nick closed his eyes and sighed happily. Dave felt very pleased with himself.

* * *

When Nick got home that evening, he told Zoë that he and Dave had decided to end their feud and become friends, but that she shouldn’t tell anyone. She was gobsmacked, but pleased, though she expressed worry that Dave wanted to keep it a secret.

‘It’s not his fault,’ Nick explained. ‘It’s his dad. You’ve met his dad.’

Zoë thought for a moment. ‘Yes,’ she said finally. ‘George Thompson. At parent teacher night. He looked down his nose at me and said, “Oh, so you’re the _Davis girl_.”’ She sighed. ‘Point taken.’

Nick went up to his room and texted Dave, inviting him over the following day. (Dave immediately responded with a yes.) Then he turned on his computer.

He told Mel everything, leaving out the most embarrassing details, then waited patiently for a response.

_But he doesn’t even want to tell anyone that you’re friends?_

Nick frowned. This again? _You don’t know D’s dad,_ he wrote back. _There would be hell to pay if he found out, even about that. My family isn’t good enough to associate with theirs, and he’s always wanted D and I to keep up the feud._

 _So, that means more to him than you do?_ Mel replied.

 _Well, it’s early days, we don’t know what’s going to happen!_ Nick responded defensively. _Why are you being like this? Can’t you just be happy for me?_

He waited, nervously. He had never really had a disagreement with Mel before, unless one counted the discussion regarding Linda.

After a few moments the Messenger window lit up again. _I’m sorry,_ Mel had written. _I AM happy for you, really. I’m just worried… What if this is another Linda?_

Nick smiled in spite of himself. _For some reason I doubt that D would go to these lengths just to humiliate me. Moving so far away from what might be considered his normal behaviour, if he doesn’t really have feelings for me… Can’t imagine it._

 _You seem very certain,_ Mel wrote. _I’m happy for you._

* * *

Dave went to Nick’s house at two o’clock the following afternoon. Zoë and Craig had gone off to the pub to watch the football, so there were no awkward introductions to be made away with. Dave was grateful for that.

Nick showed him around the small house, ending the tour with his bedroom. He seemed to hesitate a bit before opening the door.

‘It’s not much,’ he mumbled as they stepped inside.

Nick’s room was painted blue and simply decorated. It contained a desk, a computer, a bookshelf, a closet and a bed. The walls were covered with posters of various bands. In a corner of the room stood his guitar, a dark blue Ibanez. Dave was tempted to ask Nick to play him something, but he hadn’t yet told him about listening in on him, and wasn’t certain he should, so he was unsure about how to bring it up.

‘I’ll put on some music,’ said Nick, busying himself with his iPod over by the dock in the bookshelf while Dave sat down on the bed.

He put on something with synthesisers and electric guitars, and a high, thin vocal. Dave couldn’t quite decide whether it was a boy or a girl singing.

 _‘Come back to me a while. Change your style again…’_ sang the voice.

‘Who’s this?’ asked Dave when Nick turned around.

‘Placebo,’ said Nick, pointing to one of the posters on the wall. Dave glanced at it, but it made him none the wiser. The figure in the centre, staring out at him from under heavily made-up eyelids, could have been either gender. Either way, Dave noted, they were breathtakingly beautiful, in an androgynous sort of way.

‘They’re my favourite band,’ Nick continued, sitting down next to Dave on the bed. ‘Their music has helped me through a lot. And I used to have the biggest crush on their singer...’ Ah. Probably male, then.

Dave looked at Nick, who glanced awkwardly back.

_‘Come back to me a while. Change your taste in men…’_

Dave touched Nick’s cheek, turning his face gently toward him. Ever since Nick had left the previous night, this was all Dave had been able to think about. Kissing him again. Feeling his lips against his own, running his fingers through his hair, holding him close.

So he did.

They lay down on the bed together, on their sides, facing one another. Dave kissed Nick softly, carefully, one hand resting on his hip. He didn’t want to rush things, just enjoy the feel of it. Nick made a soft sound and parted his lips as Dave ran his tongue over them. Dave took his time, tasting, feeling, moving his tongue slowly around, enjoying the feel of Nick’s response.

Nick seemed to be growing impatient, however, and soon broke the kiss and instead attached his lips to Dave’s neck, leaving soft kisses there. Dave was somewhat surprised by this, but he leaned his head back to expose his neck and give Nick better access, and the other kissed his way down the length of his neck. Then he stuck out his tongue and licked a trail from the hollow of Dave’s throat up to his chin, and Dave moaned. Nick licked and kissed his way along Dave’s jawline, up to his earlobe which he slowly took into his mouth and sucked on, causing Dave to groan, deep in his throat.

‘Oh, fuck…’ he moaned. ‘That feels amazing!’

Nick took hold of the hand on his hip, then, and, entwining their fingers, pushed Dave onto his back and into the bed, swinging one leg over him as he did. He looked down at Dave for a moment, caressing the side of his face gently, lips parted and face flushed.

‘You look…’ he began, hesitating as though unsure of what, exactly, he wanted to say. ‘God, you look stunning, Dave. You’re… You are so incredibly gorgeous.’

Dave blushed and felt something flutter in his stomach. He had had many girlfriends (three in the past year alone), but none of them had ever made him feel like this. Nick made him feel vulnerable, but in a good way. He _wanted_ to feel that way with Nick, and he realised at that moment that he was falling utterly and impossibly, head over heels in love with this boy.

He lifted his right hand, the one that wasn’t currently being pinned into the pillow, and placed it on the small of Nick’s back. Then he pulled him down on top of him, crashing their lips together. He snuck his hand in under Nick’s jumper, running it up and down the warm, smooth skin of his back. Nick’s hand went up into his hair, and he carded his fingers through it. Dave closed his eyes, smiling into the kiss.

He felt his cock straining against the fabric of his trousers as their hips ground together, and desperately wanted for Nick to touch it, and he wanted to see and touch Nick, too. But at the same time, the thought of it made him feel incredibly nervous. He had no idea how to approach the idea of sex with a guy. And besides, he felt like this had to be Nick’s choice. Nick had never been intimate with anyone before. He was in charge.

They didn’t go any further that day. Afterwards, they sat on the bed holding hands, talking and occasionally kissing. Dave wanted to know everything he could about Nick, and listened patiently as Nick told him about his family, his sister, his likes and dislikes.

‘Oh, shit!’ said Nick, and laughed, when Dave got up to leave. ‘Look what I did to you!’ He was still sitting on the bed, knees drawn up to his chest. His brown hair was ruffled and messy, and his lips red and raw from the kissing. Dave would have liked nothing better than to get right back down on that bed and snog the hell out of him, wiping that grin off his face in the process.

Instead, he examined his reflection in the mirror on the door to the wardrobe and saw a dark purple hickey on his neck.

‘Oh, _fuck_!’ he said. ‘You’ve got to be more careful next time.’

Nick grinned mischievously. ‘Guess you’ll just have to tell people you have a new girlfriend or something. It’s almost not a lie…’

Dave met his eye. He was wearing that same look, the same smile, as the previous day, the one that made Dave want to tear all his clothes off. ‘No,’ said Dave and smiled. ‘Almost not.’ 

‘Oh!’ said Nick suddenly, standing up. ‘Hang on a minute…’ He strode over to the wardrobe and opened one of the doors, rummaging inside. He pulled out a black leather jacket that looked awfully familiar.

Nick turned to Dave, holding out the jacket. ‘I never had a good opportunity to return it…’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

Dave smiled and shook his head. ‘I had almost forgotten about that,’ he said. His parents had given him that jacket for his birthday. It was Diesel, and had probably been very expensive. He smiled wider. ‘You know what? Keep it. Wear it to school some day, we’ll see if anyone notices.’

Nick laughed outright at that. He lowered his hand, dropping the jacket to the floor, and closed the distance between them. Then he put his arms around Dave and hugged him. Dave hugged him back, breathing in deeply. Nick smelled like soap and teenage boy and a little bit like Dave himself.

‘Are you mine?’ Nick mumbled into his shoulder. 

Dave chuckled softly. ‘I dunno,’ he said. ‘But you’re _mine_!’ And he held him even tighter and nibbled at his shoulder possessively. Nick giggled.

‘I have to go,’ Dave whispered after a little while.

‘I know,’ Nick replied. ‘I don’t want to let you.’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ said Dave, kissing his neck several times.

‘Yeah,’ said Nick, finally loosening his grasp. ‘See you tomorrow.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Dave's (now Nick's) leather jacket.](http://cdn.yoox.biz/41/41260051mj_12_f.jpg)


	9. Scared of Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _An introverted kinda soul, the earth did open, swallow whole. Her next of kin who lived in sin, was asking god to let her in. I'm a man, a liar, guaranteed in your bed. I gotta place it on the rack, got a place inside it._  
>  \--'Scared of Girls', by Placebo

Nick stared up at the canopy of yellow leaves stretching out across the roof of the bike shed. In truth, most of them had by now found their way down to the ground, where they turned brown and soggy, but there was still a layer of autumn yellow covering the trees. The sky was clear, pale blue and the air was crisp and cool as November came to a close.

For the past couple of weeks, Nick had experienced an entirely new sensation. It had come in brief spells before, but it had never lasted this long, and it had never felt this powerful. He had come to realise that it must be happiness.

He was sitting on the ground behind the bike shed, his back resting against the trunk of a large maple tree that had grown into and around the chain link fence of the school yard. This had always been a safe place. He had hid there so many times, just reading or thinking, away from everything. The concrete shed, nestled between the fence and the brick wall of the school building, blocked out the sound of the school yard, and the space behind it was comfortably warm through the winter, heated by an air vent out of the school.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

A sound made his eyes snap open, and he looked around. Squeezing through the space between the fence and the shed, a figure came into view.

‘Hey, you,’ said Dave, smiling. Nick grinned and stood up, greeting the other with a hug.

‘Missed you,’ he whispered.

‘We just saw each other in class,’ Dave said, kissing his cheek. They pulled apart.

‘Doesn’t count,’ said Nick, shaking his head. ‘I miss you all the time,’ he confessed, blushing.

Dave lifted a hand and stroked his cheek, and Nick leaned into the touch. 

‘I’m insanely jealous of your friends, you know,’ Nick continued, covering Dave’s hand with his own. ‘They can talk to you whenever they want…’ He took the hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles gently. ‘And I never know if it’s safe to text. Besides, if a teacher caught us with our mobiles out there would be hell to pay.’

‘True,’ Dave acknowledged. ‘But I don’t do this with my friends,’ he added, pulling Nick into an embrace again and kissing him full on the lips.

Nick giggled as they parted. ‘I should hope not!’ he said, grinning. Then he chewed his lip thoughtfully, looking away for a moment, choosing his words. ‘You never… experimented? With any of them?’ He blushed a bit as he said it.

Dave shook his head, frowning. ‘Not really,’ he said. Then he seemed to think for a bit, and a slow smile spread across his lips. ‘There _was_ that time when Alan and I played at kissing when we were six,’ he admitted. ‘At his house, in his bedroom. His dad walked in on us. He was furious! Tossed me out, probably slapped Alan silly… We didn’t hang out for a while after that. Eventually I think everyone just forgot about it and things went back to normal.’

Nick’s heart was racing. ‘Who started it? You or him?’

Dave considered for a moment. ‘Him,’ he said at last.

‘I think Alan’s gay,’ Nick blurted.

‘Hah! Don’t ever let him hear you say that!’ said Dave.

‘I mean it, though,’ Nick said seriously. ‘His homophobia, this, it all fits with him being gay.’ _The way he follows you around like he’s in love with you…_

‘Plenty of kids practise kissing with other kids of the same sex,’ Dave protested. ‘Doesn’t make him gay.’

Nick hesitated, not sure whether he should press on.

‘If he _was_ gay…’ he began slowly, ‘would you rather have him than me?’

Dave surveyed his face with an amused smile, and Nick bit his lip and looked away.

‘Silly!’ said Dave. ‘Why on Earth would I want Alan? It would just be weird, we’ve been best friends for so long. And anyway, he’s not really my type.’ He put his hands on Nick’s shoulders, and Nick met his eyes. ‘ _You’re_ my type.’

Nick smiled, a little shyly. 

‘Anyway, I have happier things to talk to you about,’ said Dave and grinned. ‘My cousin Mellie is coming to visit this weekend. You can meet her!’

‘What, you mean you’ve told her? About us?’ Nick asked.

‘Oh, no,’ said Dave. ‘Over the phone? Are you mental? Anyone could be listening, fuck knows my father doesn’t trust me… No, I just told her I had some good news. My parents are going out of town again for the night, so it’ll just be us.’

Nick cocked an eyebrow. ‘Thought you said your dad didn’t trust you?’

‘He doesn’t,’ said Dave. ‘But he trusts me to know his wrath if I have a party or burn down the house.’

Nick laughed and shook his head.

‘So? Are you coming or what?’ asked Dave with a grin.

Nick put on a face of deep consideration. Then he grinned. ‘’Course I am,’ he said. ‘How could I pass up a chance of spending time with you?’

* * *

‘C’mon, then, Dave, give us the goods!’ said Mellie. ‘You said you had good news, so tell me what they are!’ She had her arms folded across her chest, head cocked to one side. She wore a loose, purple top over black jeans, and her shoulder length, blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her oval, green-framed glasses perched on her nose, giving her the look of a disapproving librarian.

‘No, you’ll have to wait, sweet,’ said Dave, grinning. ‘You’ll know soon enough.’

‘Oh!’ Mellie whined, pouting and stomping her foot petulantly. At that precise moment, the doorbell chimed in the entrance hall.

‘And here he is now!’ said Dave, cheerfully.

‘Who?’ asked Mellie, still pouting. 

‘Mr. Good News!’ said Dave and sauntered out into the hall towards the door. ‘Coming, love!’ he called in a sweet sing-song voice. Mellie followed, her expression rapidly alternating between puzzlement and pout.

Dave opened the door to reveal a slightly embarrassed looking Nick. He wore Dave’s leather jacket over a dark grey Placebo t-shirt and slightly worn blue jeans. He smiled awkwardly. Dave took his hand and pulled him through the door, into the house, shutting the door behind them.

‘Good!’ he said, as he did this. ‘You’re here! Come in; meet Mellie. Mellie, this is Nick. My boyfriend!’

Mellie seemed to do a double take and stared at each of them in turn. After a moment’s hesitation, she opened her mouth and said, ‘Your… your _boyfriend_?’

‘Yeah!’ Dave nodded, grinning like an idiot. ‘Nick Davis. My boyfriend.’ He couldn’t repeat those words often enough.

‘Nice to meet you,’ said Nick, quietly.

Mellie stared for a minute longer, before finally smiling. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘can’t say I’m really surprised. Our Dave always was a bit queer… What was your name again?’

‘Nick,’ he replied. ‘Nick Davis.’

‘Why does that sound familiar…?’ said Mellie, frowning. Then her eyes widened. ‘Hang on! I remember you! You were that little loserish kid Dave always used to push around! Oh, no offence,’ she said, and had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I didn’t mean that you’re a loser, just… But yeah, I remember you.’ She studied Nick’s face. ‘You probably wouldn’t remember, but I went to your school for a year.’

‘Really?’ said Nick. ‘Were you in our year?’

‘No, she wasn’t,’ Dave cut in. ‘She’s less than a month older than me, but she started school the year before us.’

‘Apparently I was clever enough,’ said Mellie, rolling her eyes at her cousin. ‘Not that I argue, of course.’ She grinned smugly. ‘Proper smart-arse, me.’

Nick laughed, then. ‘Are you sure we went to the same school?’ he asked. ‘I find it hard to believe I wouldn’t remember you…’

‘Well, again, different years,’ said Mellie. ‘And, by the looks of it, you’re not the sort of person to pay attention to girls…’

Nick blushed again, looking away.

‘Oh, bless him!’ said Mellie, grinning widely. ‘He’s blushing!’

‘Oh, shut up, Mellie!’ said Dave, still grinning too. He ruffled Nick’s hair fondly and kissed his temple.

It felt so liberating to be able to be in the same room as someone else and still be affectionate. It felt normal. And if there was anyone he trusted with all this, it was Mellie.

They went into the living room and sat down in the sofa, talking while they waited for the pizza to be delivered. Mellie wanted to know all about how their relationship had come about, and Dave obliged, telling her almost everything.

‘So, why did you come to live here, back then?’ asked Nick.

‘My dad had to move to America,’ Mellie explained. ‘He was a diplomat at the time. I only followed a year later. Ended up living there for two years. You know, yanks? Not as bad as they’d have you believe. But yeah, I lived here for a… transitional period, I guess.’

‘What about your mum?’ Nick asked.

‘Oh, er…’ Mellie hesitated. ‘Me mum passed away the year before that…’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ said Nick, looking mortified. ‘That was a really insensitive question…’

‘That’s all right,’ said Mellie, smiling. ‘Why, Dave, you’ve found yourself a perfect gentleman, haven’t you? If he weren’t gay I might try to steal him from you.’

Dave laughed as Nick blushed once again. ‘Lucky for me, then,’ he said, ‘that my Nicky’s never really looked at a girl in his entire life.’ He wrapped his arms protectively around Nick and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

‘Actually, you _do_ look very familiar,’ said Nick after a while, apparently more comfortable now. ‘But not from school, I’ve seen you somewhere else.’

‘Well you saw her that day,’ said Dave. ‘When you thought we were kissing.’

‘Yeah, but that was from a distance,’ said Nick, turning to Dave. ‘I couldn’t make out her face. But I’ve definitely seen it somewhere…’ He frowned. 

The doorbell rang and Dave got up to go get the pizza. 

When he returned with the box of hot, cheesy goodness a couple of minutes later, Nick and Mellie were sitting next to each other, and Nick was chatting animatedly.

‘What’s going on?’ said Dave, brightly, setting the flat cardboard pizza box down on the table. ‘You two bonding?’

‘Dave, remember how you said Mellie was your best friend in the world?’ Nick asked, not taking his eyes off her.

‘Yeah?’

‘Well, she’s mine, too!’

Dave scratched the back of his neck. ‘Sorry, not quite following,’ he admitted.

‘Remember I told you about that girl I talk to online?’ Nick went on, then, looking up at Dave. ‘Your Mellie is my Mel! We’ve known each other for four years already, and we never realised how close we actually were!’ He grinned.

‘Wow, really?’ said Dave, sitting down. ‘That’s fantastic!’

‘I know, isn’t it?’ said Nick happily. ‘I knew she looked familiar! She sent me a picture of herself a couple of years ago. The hair was different, but it was definitely her! And the bit about America…’

Dave looked over at Mellie, who was uncharacteristically quiet. She didn’t look quite as pleased at this news as Nick was. She was looking at her knees, her brow slightly furrowed.

When Nick excused himself to go to the loo before they started eating, Dave scooted closer to her.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘You all right? You’re really quiet…’

‘Oh, yeah,’ she said, her head snapping up. ‘I’m… Yeah. I sort of wondered, while you were telling the story…’ She looked away again, plucking at a hangnail with her fingers. ‘I felt like I had heard it before, but I put it out of me mind. Didn’t want to believe it…’

‘Why not?’ asked Dave.

Mellie laughed humourlessly. ‘You’re thicker than he is,’ she said. ‘Dave, he was the first boy besides you to ever pay the slightest bit of attention to me. He made me feel like maybe I wasn’t hopelessly fat and maybe someone could really love me…’

Dave sighed and leaned back in his seat. ‘You fell in love with him,’ he said softly.

Mellie nodded. ‘Yeah.’ She looked up at him. ‘Dave, I’m so sorry, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I just… I figured as long as he was gay and far away, I could deal with unrequited feelings, but… Seeing him… And with you, I—I guess I always kind of hoped that he wouldn’t be gay after all.’

Dave shook his head and smiled sadly. ‘Well, I can help you there. Nick is definitely gay. Flamingly so.’

‘I know. I think I knew before he ever told me. It’s just… I dunno.’ Mellie trailed off, staring down at her knees again.

Dave took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Maybe this is a good thing,’ he said quietly. ‘Maybe now you’ve met him, you can put it behind you. Before now, Nick was just an idea to you, right? Ideas are so hard to let go of, but now he’s an actual person. Maybe this way you can learn to let go. Open your heart to someone else. Cause you’re amazing, Mellie, you really are, and you’re gonna find a guy who understands that. You’re beautiful.’

She smiled weakly at him.

They heard the door to the bathroom open. ‘Don’t tell him,’ Mellie said urgently.

‘Of course not,’ Dave replied, smiling. 

The three of them ate pizza, watched a movie and shared a bottle of rosé wine that Mellie had gotten from an older friend. Mellie smiled and chatted as if nothing was wrong, and Dave felt very proud of her. 

The truth was that the year Mellie had lived in Windfield Green had been the best year of Dave’s childhood. It was the first time he felt like somebody understood what it was like living in his house. Mellie had become his best friend and confidante. Mellie was an only child, just like Dave, so it had been difficult for both to adjust. Sharing had never been Dave’s strongest suit. They had fought a lot, but in the end their disagreements hadn’t mattered, because now they both had someone who _saw them_. Someone who _knew_.

Dave had been devastated when Mellie had left for America. He had missed her terribly and, to his own great shame, cried himself to sleep for a week. Since she had returned, Dave had spent many long weekends and holidays in Manchester. Uncle Clive was an easy going, friendly man, and his girlfriend (lately wife), Alice, was the sweet and caring sort. Dave envied Mellie her family, while Mellie envied Dave his friends and social graces, but that had never stood between them, and Mellie had remained the friend he could always count on, who always loved him, even when he didn’t deserve it. 

When it was time for Nick to leave, he hugged Mellie.

‘I’m so glad I’ve met you now,’ he told her, smiling. ‘You’re even more fantastic in real life!’ Then he kissed Dave, said he’d text him when he got home, and left the house.

Dave waved him off and closed the door behind him. Then he turned to Mellie. ‘Will you be okay?’

‘’Course I will,’ she replied, smiling. ‘I’ll be just fine.’

‘I meant what I said before,’ said Dave. ‘One day someone will realise how amazing you are, and that bloke’s gonna be really lucky.’

Mellie cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘You can stop trying to make me feel better now.’

‘I’m not!’ Dave protested. ‘I’m telling the truth!’

‘Sure you are,’ said Mellie, grinning. ‘Now come on, I’m gonna kick your arse at Halo!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't sleep last night, so I drew some illustrations of some of the characters and posted them to my Tumblr. [Lookie!](http://thornwild.tumblr.com/post/48603047940/i-couldnt-sleep-last-night-so-i-made-a-few)


	10. Waiting For the Son of Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Patience comes to the ugly, not me. Laughter comes to the lucky, not me. People in my head that won't stop talking, nothing in my dream that isn't creepy crawling. Walking in the park and I think that I'm falling, swimming in the sea and I think I'll... You guessed it._  
>  \--'Waiting for the Son of Man', by Placebo

December arrived with wind and rain, temperatures dropping to a couple of degrees above freezing during the day, though the wind chill made it feel colder, and in the mornings the grass would be covered in frost and the puddles would be iced over. Nick and Dave spent time together any chance they got, mostly at Nick’s house. At school, where they could be seen, they behaved the way they always had, occasionally amusing themselves by staging a fight or an argument, and then meeting behind the bike shed for a quick snog after. 

As the Christmas holidays approached, the two had less and less time to spend together, however, as they were both at increasing rates hijacked into doing chores and preparing for the celebrations in their respective homes. Dave’s mother dragged him along Christmas shopping (‘Not that I do much shopping, mostly I just carry stuff,’) and Zoë had Nick hoover and wash all the floors.

With the holidays came the snow, more of it than they had seen in a long time, and all over the country airports were shut down and train services were delayed or canceled. It was lucky, as Zoë reminded Nick, that their mother and aunt Karen would be driving. Less lucky, thought Nick, if they crashed on the way.

Since her last episode, their mother’s condition had been steadily improving, and with the blessing of her doctors, it had been decided that a short visit to her children for Christmas would be both healthy and productive for her.

Nick was looking forward to seeing her, of course, but he couldn’t quite help but feel nervous. He knew exactly when he had last seen her. It had been for his fifteenth birthday. All he had wanted was to see her, so in the end he and Zoë had got in the car and driven to Coventry. 

The person he had met then had been nothing like his mother. She had been so thin and pale, and when she had seen him, she had burst into tears and had to leave the room. It had been the most miserable birthday of his life.

Nick spent Christmas Eve in quiet anticipation. There were no chores left to be done. Everything was neat and tidy and sparkling clean. All that remained was to wait. So Nick hid away in his room, chatting with Mel on messenger (an activity that had become so much more interesting now that they had met) and texting with Dave.

Around five o’clock, Nick heard a car pull up in front of the house. Then the doorbell rang downstairs. Nick turned off his computer and left the room.

Zoë and Craig were waiting at the foot of the stairs. When Zoë saw Nick, she smiled at him and went to open the door.

His aunt stepped inside first, shaking snow off her coat. Karen Parsons was a petite, athletic woman in her forties, with lightly curled brown hair and ever perfect make-up. She was pragmatic and strict, but very kind. 

Aunt Karen took a few steps forward and then… There she was. Thin, pale and grey, but somehow more alive than the last time he had seen her. Angie Parsons. Nick’s mother.

Mandatory greetings and introductions and hugs took place as Zoë showed Craig off, and then it was Nick’s turn.

His mother approached him slowly, smiling weakly. ‘Hello, Nick,’ she said quietly, and all at once her eyes, the same silver grey as Nick’s own, were brimming with tears. She controlled herself, however, beaming as he smiled back.

‘Hi,’ said Nick. ‘Er… Welcome.’ It was an odd thing to say, he realised. This was technically still her house.

She reached out and cupped his face in her hands. ‘Let me look at you,’ she said. ‘Oh, you’re so grown up!’

Nick looked away, uncomfortable.

‘Well, let’s get your things inside!’ said Zoë. ‘Dinner will be done in just a minute.’

* * *

Zoë was a good cook, when she took the time to do it properly. They had baked salmon with fried potatoes, and sautéed mushrooms and onions, and a fresh green salad on the side. It was a lovely meal, and everyone made polite conversation. 

Afterwards, they sat in the living room, drinking hot chocolate and looking at the snow falling outside. Craig was obviously anxious to make a good impression, and had put on his best, most smiling face. He told tasteful jokes and amusing anecdotes about being a carpenter, and Nick’s mother and aunt laughed and seemed to like him very well indeed. Nick supposed this must be what Craig was like with Zoë most of the time. That must be why she liked him. Craig’s performance might even have made Nick like him, if he didn’t already know what the man was like.

Craig hadn’t laid a finger on him since that first time, though, and once, when he and Nick had been alone in the house one afternoon, he had even grunted some sort of half arsed apology, which Nick, taken aback, had accepted. Nick supposed that it was possible that Craig had simply had a bad day, though that still didn’t quite account for why he seemed unable to show Nick this friendlier side of himself when they were alone. Nor did it excuse his actions.

At about nine o’clock, Nick’s mobile buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out as discreetly as he could.

 _Save me now, please!_ read the text from Dave. _I can’t stand another second of this._

Nick smiled. _Is it that bad?_ he wrote back.

The response came quickly. _My mum is baking cookies. She doesn’t like baking and she’s not good at it, and this is the one time of the year where she tries to be a mum and she sucks at it!_

‘Texting, little brother?’ Zoë asked.

‘Oh, yeah,’ said Nick, a blush creeping up his face. ‘Sorry. Just… yeah. Texting.’

‘Oh, mum,’ said Zoë, turning to their mother, ‘I never got round to telling you! Remember Dave Thompson?’

‘Of course I remember Dave Thompson!’ 

‘Well, Nick’s only gone and made friends with him, hasn’t he?’ Zoë beamed at her brother and Nick blushed again. ‘Only it’s all a big secret cause his dad’s a git.’

Nick’s mum nodded emphatically. ‘Oh yes, that man never could stand our family! We were just not good enough for him. Especially your father…’ She trailed off, then, staring off into the proverbial distance. Then she regained her composure. ‘But you’ve made friends with Dave? How lovely! I’m glad to see you break the cycle. Shows how you’ve grown.’ She smiled at Nick, and he felt oddly uncomfortable again.

‘Er, yeah, he’s actually really nice… We… we had detention together and got to actually talking and, well…’ He trailed off and looked away. Conversation resumed.

Shortly thereafter, his mother complained that she was tired and would like to go to bed, giving Nick an excuse to retreat to his room, after giving her a good night kiss.

 _Can I ring you?_ He wrote to Dave. A minute later his mobile rang.

‘I rang you, hope that’s okay,’ said Dave’s voice on the other end of the line.

‘Evidently,’ said Nick. ‘And of course it’s okay!’ He locked his door and went over to his bed, where he laid down, staring at the ceiling. 

‘So, how are things?’ asked Dave. ‘Is it weird, having your mum over?’

Nick nodded, then remembered that Dave couldn’t see him and said, ‘Yeah… It’s like she’s not really my mum, she’s so different, and I feel like I have to be so careful with what I say and how I act.’ He paused for a moment, sighing. ‘It’s nice, though. Seeing her. She’s better than last time, and that’s great.’

‘Yeah,’ said Dave. ‘That _is_ great.’

There was a brief silence.

‘Zoë told her we were friends,’ said Nick.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, and Mum told me that our families never got along… Especially our dads, she said… Do you know anything about that?’

‘No,’ said Dave. ‘He’s never talked about it… Not to me.’

‘So, how are you doing?’ Nick asked.

‘Meh… I hate celebrating Christmas with just my parents. At least when one set of aunts and uncles or another is here they make an effort to act nice. But Mellie and Uncle Clive are in America to celebrate with Alice’s family, and my cousin Jason and Aunt Camilla and Uncle Jeremy are celebrating with Uncle Jeremy’s parents, so it’s just us. And so Mum’s trying to be a mother and baking cookies and decorating everything, only she’s not really trying, she’s just going through the motions. And now she’s angry because it’s Christmas Eve and Father’s not back from the office yet.’ Dave paused, as if to catch his breath. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to rant, it’s just… We’re a fucked up family.’ He chuckled warily into the phone.

‘I’m sorry, love,’ said Nick. ‘That really sucks… I mean, Christmas is supposed to be fun.’

‘Christmas hasn’t been fun for me since I was six,’ Dave admitted. ‘Except for when Mellie or Jason or both came here to celebrate with us. To be honest, though, my father doesn’t really like Uncle Jeremy much… I think he thinks his sister married beneath her or something.’ He sighed. ‘God, I hate my family sometimes…’

‘Hey, at least you’ve got two parents,’ said Nick, before realising how petty that sounded. ‘I mean, I’m not belittling what you’re feeling, it wasn’t supposed to come out that way!’

‘No, it’s okay,’ said Dave. ‘I do have two parents. You barely have one… But I guess our situations aren’t really comparable, you know? Our families are different. It’s like comparing first world and third world problems. Just cause there are people starving in the world that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel like your life sucks.’

Nick smiled. ‘You have to stop being so clever, it really fucks with your bad boy image.’

Dave laughed. ‘Well, with you I don’t need an image,’ he said. ‘I can just be me.’

Nick turned over on his side and hugged himself. Hearing Dave say things like that made him feel cold and warm all at once. ‘I wish I could see you…’ he said. ‘I miss you. I want to hold you…’

‘Yeah, me too,’ came Dave’s reply. He sounded a little breathless. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you… I’d offer to meet you somewhere, but I think if I tried to leave the house now my mum might actually kill me.’

Nick laughed in spite of himself. ‘Yeah, I don’t think Zoë will let me out of here until Boxing Day at the earliest, not with Mum in the house.’ He sighed. ‘But I really, really want to kiss you right now.’

He could hear Dave’s breathing through the phone. ‘I wanna kiss you too,’ he whispered. ‘I want to see you and be with you…’

‘Maybe we can get out, for just a little bit tomorrow,’ said Nick.

‘Yeah, maybe,’ Dave replied. Nick heard a noise in the background. ‘Fuck, I have to go. Father’s home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ said Nick. ‘Good night.’

‘Good night.’

* * *

Christmas day arrived with the smells of cakes and cooking turkey. Nick descended the stairs in pyjamas and a dressing gown to find the rest of the family plus Craig in the living room drinking hot chocolate, a heap of brightly coloured gifts piled under the Christmas tree. 

There was small talk and jokes being made while the gifts were unwrapped. Nick got a couple of books and a CD, and then that seemed to be it, the presents were all gone. All but one big one, hiding behind the tree.

‘This one’s for Nick,’ said Zoë, hauling it out. ‘From all of us.’ 

Nick opened the present, feeling puzzled at its size and shape. It was slightly squishy. As the wrapping went away, a black gig bag was revealed. Further unwrapping revealed the distinct Fender logo. Nick tore away the rest of the paper, heart in his throat, and with trembling fingers he opened the zipper on the gig bag to reveal its content.

‘You… you guys bought me a Telecaster?’ he said weakly. He stroked his fingers over the smooth maple neck. ‘American Special… Olympic White,’ he whispered. ‘This is… How did you guys even afford this? It’s a Fender, for Christ’s sake! Are you people insane, couldn’t you just buy me a Squier?’

The others all laughed at his reaction, but the looks on the faces of his mother, aunt and sister were kind and loving. Craig stood off to one side looking mildly uncomfortable. Nick supposed he must have chipped in.

‘Thank you,’ he said softly. ‘All of you.’

‘Oh, wait,’ said Zoë suddenly and ran off out into the kitchen. She returned a few moments later lugging a Fender Mustang amplifier. ‘This goes with it, I believe,’ she said.

Nick shook his head, grinning. ‘You guys are completely mental. I think this is officially the best Christmas ever!’ he said.

‘Only the best for my boy,’ said his mother affectionately, and the spell broke. Nick’s grin faded as he looked down at the guitar in front of him.

‘Yeah,’ he said, absently. ‘I… excuse me.’

He left the room and stepped out into the hall. He found his boots and put them on, and then stepped outside into the chilly Christmas morning. The snow was falling again, and he pulled his dressing gown tighter around himself, hugging himself against the cold. 

A few moments later the door opened behind him. 

‘Nicky…’ His mother’s voice was quiet and frail. ‘I know what this must look like.’

‘You mean like you’re buying me off with shiny presents so I’ll forget about the four years you’ve spent out of my life?’ said Nick bitterly. ‘You’re right, that’s exactly what this looks like.’

‘It’s not what it is,’ his mother sighed. ‘I know that I’ve been a terrible mum. I haven’t been there for you when you needed me, and Zoë’s had to just drop her life because of me. I know that. I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. I’m not expecting you to forgive me, not even a little. But I want you to know how sorry I am. And I want you to know that I’m trying. I’m really working very hard to get better, so I can come home. And by the time I get to that point it’ll probably be too late and you’ll be all grown up and you won’t need me anymore, but… I love you, Nicky. I’ll always love you. You’re my little boy.’

Nick drew a deep breath and turned around to face her. She looked so small, in her great big coat. She was so thin and sunken looking, but her eyes were bright and full of emotion and sincerity. Nick stepped closer and put his arms around his mother. He was taller than her now. 

He didn’t tell her that he forgave her. He didn’t say another word. But when they broke apart, they smiled at each other. Then they went back inside to celebrate their Christmas, together.

* * *

At it turned out, Dave and Nick didn’t get to see one another until Boxing Day. Only then did Dave manage to convince his parents to let him out to hang out with his friends for a couple of hours. Instead, he more or less ran all the way to Nick’s house. Once there, he was obliged to introduce himself to Nick’s mother (‘It’s so nice to meet you, Dave! I hear you’ve been taking good care of my boy!’), followed by a mandatory sit-down involving Christmas cakes and tea. He rather liked Nick’s mum, and his aunt even more. They seemed like nice people. He had no idea how to behave with regards to Craig, though, knowing what he’d done back in October. After a good half hour of chit chat he and Nick were at last allowed to retreat to the latter’s room.

Dave watched with mild amusement and a smile on his face as Nick waxed lyrical about his new guitar for a few minutes, before he managed to pull him down on the bed with him to kiss him thoroughly.

‘Merry Christmas, lover,’ he murmured.

‘Merry Christmas,’ Nick responded, smiling. ‘God, you have no idea how good it is to see you…’

‘Oh, I think I have a clue,’ Dave countered.

Nick grinned at him. Then he got to his feet again and went over to his desk, rummaging through a drawer. When he had found what he was looking for, he returned to Dave, handing him a present wrapped in shiny golden paper.

Dave unwrapped it eagerly, and found within a book. It was monstrously thick, and the title on the front read _American Gods_.

‘This looks familiar,’ he said.

‘Yeah, I seem to remember you saying something about a gay book about yankee gods,’ Nick teased. ‘But yeah, I think you’ll really like it. It’s my favourite book. Has some great characters and settings and stuff… Oh, and, they didn’t have it in the book shop, and by the time I knew what I wanted to get you it was too late to order it, so that’s my copy.’ He pointed to the spine. ‘That would be why it’s all bent and well-read… But that way you can, you know, think of me when you read it.’ He blushed.

Dave opened the cover. On the first page was written, _To Dave, with love._

‘Thank you,’ said Dave, turning his eyes to Nick. ‘Really. Thank you. I’ll read it, I promise.’ He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. ‘I don’t really know how to buy gifts for boys,’ he said apologetically. ‘And it’s not much, but…’ He handed it to Nick.

Dave had agonised over his gift to Nick for a long time. In the end, he had settled on a bracelet. It was simple. Just a silver plate engraved with a delicate leaf pattern on a brown leather thong. A blend of the masculine and feminine, like Nick himself with his delicate features and strong personality.

Nick picked it up and gazed at it, apparently dumbstruck. Then he found his voice. ‘I… wow. Thank you. It’s… It’s stunning.’

Dave’s face cracked into a wide smile. ‘I’m so glad!’ he said. ‘Here, let me…’ He took the bracelet from Nick and clasped it onto his slender wrist.

It fit perfectly. Nick slid his arms around Dave’s neck and kissed him, deeply. Then they just sat there for a while, holding hands, not talking.

‘So, are you gonna give me a demonstration of this new guitar of yours?’ Dave asked after a while.

‘Oh! I… I don’t, er…’ Nick stammered for a bit. ‘I mean, I don’t really play for people…’

Dave grinned. ‘You know, I’ve actually heard you play before,’ he said, suddenly remembering.

‘Really? When?’

‘Before… all this. You were playing out in the back garden and I sort of passed on my bike and then I… listened for two hours.’ Dave looked away, blushing. ‘I was doing a really bad job of convincing myself I wasn’t into you…’ He looked back up at Nick to find him blushing too. ‘You’re really good,’ he continued emphatically. ‘I mean, really. So, you know, play me something. Please?’

Nick smiled crookedly and bit his lip in that adorable way. ‘Yeah, okay.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick's Telecaster:
> 
>   
> [Click here](http://www.fender.com/en-SE/guitars/telecaster/american-special-telecaster-maple-fingerboard-olympic-white/) for info and specs, if you're interested in that sort of thing.


	11. Without You I'm Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm unclean, a libertine, and every time you vent your spleen I seem to lose the power of speech. You're slipping slowly from my reach. You grow me like an evergreen. You've never seen the lonely me at all._  
>  \--'Without You I'm Nothing', by Placebo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this chapter is titled after one of my absolute favourite Placebo songs, [here's a link](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c14qMbmP9eg) so you can hear it too!

Dave lay back on his bed with his head in Nick’s lap, listening to the music from the stereo. Nick combed through his hair with his fingers and stroked his cheek, and Dave sighed happily, closing his eyes. It was a Thursday afternoon in late January and they were in Dave’s room, on his bed. His parents wouldn’t be home until late. 

Nick shifted a bit under him, and then his lips came down to graze his forehead. Dave smiled and lifted his hand up to Nick’s neck, pulling his head down to kiss him. 

The kiss was deep and long and sweet, and Dave felt his pulse quicken as he breathed him in. 

Nick’s hand found the lining of his t-shirt and pulled upwards, until he could reach Dave’s chest. His lips moved from Dave’s mouth to his neck as he squeezed his nipple between two fingers. Dave gasped, his legs twitching involuntarily. When Nick found his earlobe and began to nibble and suck on it, Dave groaned, digging his fingers into Nick’s shoulder.

Nick broke contact for a moment, and suddenly he was on top of him, one hand in Dave’s hair, the other caressing his side, their pelvises grinding together momentarily. Nick pushed Dave’s t-shirt up further and brought his lips to his chest, kissing a trail between his nipples. His tongue flicked out to caress one of them, and Dave moaned again. Nick mimicked the sound in apparent empathy.

His hand moved along the lining of Dave’s jeans, stopping at the fly and working the button. Dave gasped again, arching his back, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants. His whole body was telling him that he wanted this, wanted it desperately, but all of a sudden some part of his mind decided to panic. He took Nick’s hand in his own to stop him. Nick broke free of his grasp, and tried to return to his task.

‘No, wait,’ Dave panted. ‘Wait, wait, wait…’

Nick stopped and looked at Dave’s face, frowning. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

‘I… Nothing, I’m just…’ Dave scratched his thigh and looked away. ‘I’m not ready,’ he mumbled.

‘Not ready,’ Nick repeated. ‘You… I don’t believe this…’ He climbed off of Dave and sat next to him. Dave propped himself up on his elbows.

‘Look, I’m sorry, I just—’

‘You just what?’ Nick snapped. ‘Any time we get even close to that, you stop me. So what’s the matter? Is it all just fine as long as you can pretend that I’m a girl?’

‘No!’ Dave protested, sitting up fully. The hem of his t-shirt rolled down to cover his torso again. ‘No, it’s not like that, it’s just that, well, this is all so new, and—’

‘We’ve been together for two months!’ Nick interrupted him.

‘Well, I’ve never done this before!’

‘What are you talking about? You’ve been with loads of people!’

‘With _girls_!’ Dave stressed, feeling annoyed now. ‘I’ve never done anything like this with a boy before.’

‘Well, neither have I!’ Nick replied, his voice breaking. ‘Don’t you want me?’

‘No! I mean, yes, I do, but listen…’ Dave ran his hand through his own hair, sighing angrily. ‘Before this started happening, I had never even considered being with a boy before, all right? I’d never fantasised about it, or thought about it or dreamt about it. It’s different for you, you’re properly gay, you’ve known for ages that you were.’

‘And you’re not?’

‘Well… no,’ Dave admitted. ‘I mean, I don’t know what I am. I’ve been with girls… And then there’s you.’

Nick stood up, glaring at him. ‘Well, maybe you should figure it out,’ he said icily. ‘Come find me when you have.’

‘Nick, please. Wait!’ Dave called, but Nick had already stormed off down the stairs and moments later he heard the front door slam. Dave fell back into his pillows, sighing again. The exchange had evoked a strange feeling of deja vu. It felt oddly like he’d been here before.

* * *

‘Hey, Dave.’ Alan poked his shoulder. ‘What’s with the mopey face?’

‘What?’ said Dave, looking up from his chips. ‘It’s a face. It’s a mopey face. I’m Captain Mopey Face. Deal with it.’

‘Trouble with this girlfriend of yours?’ Chas asked. He and Alan had been trying to figure out who the mystery ‘girl’ was for weeks with no luck, but had none the less come to the conclusion that there must be one.

‘Sort of,’ said Dave, truthfully enough. 

‘What’s wrong, then?’ asked Alan. ‘Won’t she shag you?’

Dave snorted and shook his head. ‘Is that honestly all you think about?’

‘Yes,’ said Alan. ‘As a healthy teenage bloke, what else is there?’ He grinned, wagging his eyebrows. ‘So, if you’re not going to be all busy with the missus all weekend, does that mean you’re coming to Matt’s birthday party tonight?’

Dave considered for a moment. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Guess I could do that.’

* * *

Matt’s house was one of the newest and most modern houses in Windfield Green. Which still meant that it was modern in the way houses were modern in the seventies. It was built from light grey brick, and had large windows. The inside was fashionably decorated, all glass and chrome and black leather sofas and chairs, and plenty of modern art on the walls. 

The party was exactly what you’d expect a sixteenth birthday party to be. There was beer, and wine, and vodka, all in copious amounts. There was also pizza and loud music and drinking games. At around ten in the evening, they started playing spin the bottle, and Dave, rather comfortably buzzed on red wine at that point, watched with amusement as the other drunk teenagers around him had to kiss one another, some taking to the task with greater enthusiasm than others.

Matt spun the bottle, and it landed on Alan. Alan stared at it, as the room erupted in laughter. Matt smirked at him. ‘So, how about it?’ he said.

‘What?’ said Alan. ‘No way, keep off me!’

Matt shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ he said, and spun the bottle again. This time, it landed on Dave. Dave blinked.

‘You as much of a coward as your friend, Dave?’ asked Matt.

Dave rolled his eyes. ‘What’s there to be scared of? It’s just a kiss, right? You don’t have herpes, do you?’

‘Not that I know of,’ said Matt, grinning. He scooted into the centre of the circle, knocking the bottle aside with his knee, grabbed the collar of Dave’s t-shirt and pulled him towards him, their lips crashing together.

Dave had imagined that Matt might plant a chaste peck on his lips and then move on, but to his great surprise, Matt’s tongue found its way inside his mouth within seconds, his hand snaking up to his shoulder and around to the back of his neck. He was a good kisser, if somewhat forceful, and as he pulled him closer, Dave, to his own great surprise, felt his body responding. He was dimly aware that some of the boys in the room were making demonstrative retching noises, while a few of the girls had gone oddly quiet. When Matt broke contact with his lips and made for his neck, however, Dave stopped him.

‘Oi, that’s enough, mate! Get off!’

Matt pulled back, smirking. Dave wiped his lips on his sleeve. His face felt slightly warm. He turned to look at Alan. Predictably, Alan’s face was beetroot red and his eyes wide, and for the first time Dave wondered if Nick might have been right about him.

‘You all right, Alan?’ Dave asked. 

Alan looked at him, his expression turning from shock to anger.

‘You guys are so gay!’ was all he said, before getting up and going off to sit in the sofa.

‘Your turn to spin, Dave,’ said Matt, licking his lips.

‘Sorry, just skip me, I need the loo…’ Dave got up, legs a bit wobbly, and made his way down the corridor in search of adequate facilities.

* * *

Nick sat at his computer, feeling utterly miserable. He and Dave hadn’t spoken since yesterday. So this was what fighting felt like… He sighed and sat back in his chair. There was a sick, churning feeling in the pit of his stomach, like fear or nervousness but not quite. He wanted it to stop.

His Messenger window lit up, and he clicked it. 

 _What’s up?_ Mel had written.

 _Everything sucks,_ Nick wrote back.

Mel responded quickly. _Something happen?_

_Dave’s a twat._

_Yeah, well, I could have told you that,_ Mel wrote. _What’s he done now?_

Nick hesitated. It had felt easy to share intimate details of his personal life with her back when he didn’t have one, and also didn’t know who she was. It was harder now. All the same he opted for cautious honesty.

 _He doesn’t want to do it with me,_ he wrote. _Says it’s different because I’m a boy, and I just keep thinking he doesn’t really want me. Maybe he’s regretting it all, thinks he’s made a mistake. Maybe he doesn’t really feel the same way about me as I do about him._ He pressed enter, thought for a moment and then added, _I’ve waited for this for years. I’ve never been more ready for it. And now I’m finally with someone and he doesn’t want to._

He waited for a reply. Mel seemed to be taking some time composing it, but then the window flashed again.

_Dave can be a privileged, clueless arse sometimes, but he’s not a liar, and if there’s one thing I know absolutely for sure it’s that he’s crazy about you. I think he DOES want you and he’s just scared. He just needs more time to figure things out. It always takes him a while to adjust to new things. You need to give him time._

Nick gave an exasperated sigh. _I just don’t understand how he can sleep with the female half of the school and not with me,_ he typed.

 _Did he tell you that?_ asked Mel.

Nick frowned, then wrote, _No…_

 _You shouldn’t listen to gossip,_ Mel wrote. _Dave’s shagged a grand total of five girls, and none of those were one night stands._

Nick stared at the computer screen. _Maybe he said that so you wouldn’t think he was a total manwhore?_ he typed tentatively, then, realising how insulting that was, pressed backspace.

He and Dave hadn’t actually talked about Dave’s sex life pre-Nick, he realised. Nick had just assumed, because that was what people said. Because Dave was flirty and had had lots of girlfriends. Nick realised with some horror that he must have assumed Dave’s sexual debut to have been at about thirteen.

Nick leaned back again, running a hand through his hair. He still felt angry, but he was suddenly less certain about whether his anger was justified.

* * *

Dave flushed the toilet and left the bathroom. Across the hall was a dark room with a window. The door was open. Not wanting to return to the living room and Alan’s angry face, Dave went inside.

It appeared to be a study. There were several bookcases against one wall, and a large mahogany desk in one corner. Dave went over to the window and looked outside at the darkness.

‘What are _you_ doing in here, all by yourself?’

Dave turned around and found Matt in the doorway, a three quarters empty bottle of wine in his hand.

‘Just needed to get away for a minute,’ Dave replied. ‘Had too much to drink. Needed to think.’

‘Right… So, that was fun,’ said Matt, nodding towards the living room.

‘Yeah,’ said Dave derisively. ‘Fun…’

‘What, don’t you like me?’ Matt pouted, taking a few steps closer. ‘You know, we could pick up where we left off…’

Dave scoffed. ‘You’re drunk,’ he said.

‘That I am,’ Matt acknowledged. ‘Drunk and bored. So what do you say? A kiss for the birthday boy?’

‘I’m not gay,’ said Dave.

Matt shrugged and examined his fingernails nonchalantly. ‘Neither am I, but I’ve had all the girls here and I’m so desperately bored with them all. Wish some of my friends from Brum could have made it…’ He glanced up at Dave through thick, dark lashes. ‘Besides, you liked it, I could tell… Not as straight as you look, are you?’ Matt took another few steps, closing the distance between them. He set the bottle down on the window sill, trapping Dave between himself and the window. Then he leaned in and kissed him again.

He was gentler this time, but just as insistent. He pressed his body against Dave’s, pushing him up against the window. Dave felt one of Matt’s hands come to land on his hip. The other went up into his hair. Dave closed his eyes in spite of himself. It was a good kiss. Matt’s hard, angular body felt comfortable against his own. But when he opened his eyes again, the eyes staring back at him were brown, not grey, and any arousal he might have felt died down at once.

Matt must have noticed, because he broke the kiss and raised an eyebrow.

‘So, you really are straight after all?’ he said, sounding surprised.

‘Maybe,’ said Dave. ‘Or maybe I just don’t fancy you.’

‘Oh, come off it!’ said Matt. ‘How could you not fancy _me_?’ But he was smiling again. ‘Oh, well. Maybe I’ll give Alan a try.’

‘Only if you want a punch in the face,’ said Dave, grinning. 

‘Why are the hottest ones always such massive homophobes?’ Matt sighed. ‘Takes the fun out of life…’ 

Dave shook his head. ‘I have to go. There’s somewhere I should be.’

‘Right,’ said Matt. ‘Well, have a good night. I need to find someone to shag, or take a cold shower.’

Dave shook his head again, gave Matt a pat on the shoulder and left the room.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Alan when he passed through the living room on his way to the front door. ‘And where were you?’

‘I was having a chat with Matt,’ Dave replied. ‘And I’m going home. Not feeling well. Too much alcohol,’ he lied. ‘See you Monday.’ Then he left. He did have somewhere he needed to be, after all.

* * *

It had just gone midnight, and Nick couldn’t sleep. He had played guitar, surfed the web and listened to music. He was now reading a book, trying to make himself tired. Everything felt wrong, somehow. At this hour, he would usually be texting Dave good night. Additionally, his chat with Mel had left him with no small amount of guilt. Nick was about to put the book away and just turn out the lights and have a wank when his mobile buzzed on the night stand next to him.

A text from Dave. Nick frowned, even as his heart skipped a beat. For a moment he wondered if he should just delete the text without reading it, but the moment he’d thought it he realised how petty and childish that was.

_Need to talk to you. Can you sneak out? Be outside your house in 5._

Nick hesitated, then typed, _Yes._

He put his clothes on and opened the door out to the landing. The house was dark and quiet, and it seemed like Zoë and Craig had gone to bed. He snuck down the stairs as quietly as he could, put on his shoes and jacket and opened the front door very carefully. Thankfully, it did not creak. 

When he stepped outside, he couldn’t see Dave, but a ‘psst’ alerted him to his presence. He was off to the side of the driveway, leaning up against the fence. He was dressed in a longish black coat and a knitted hat hid his blonde hair from view.

‘Hi,’ he said, smiling. His breath misted in front of his face in the cold night air.

Nick inclined his head, not smiling. He walked closer and leaned against the fence next to Dave. He could smell wine on him. ‘You’re drunk,’ he said, not looking at him. Dave made no comment. Nick put his hands in his pockets, as much for warmth as for the nonchalant gesture. ‘So. What do you want?’

‘I know you’re angry,’ said Dave. ‘And there’s a chance that this is going to make you even angrier, but please, hear me out.’

Nick shrugged.

‘I just came from a party, at Matt’s place,’ Dave began. ‘We were playing drinking games and things… And spin the bottle.’

Nick’s pulse increased, and he snuck a glance at Dave, who looked uncomfortable. ‘What, did you kiss Linda or something?’

Dave shook his head. ‘No, Linda wasn’t there. I kissed Matt.’

Nick blinked. ‘You—At a party? In front of people?’

‘It was spin the bottle, it was no big deal, several of the girls had kissed each other already…’ said Dave. ‘But that’s not the point. Please, just listen.’ He had a pleading look in his eyes.

Nick nodded and looked away again.

‘Afterwards, I was feeling a little drunker than I should have been, so I went into another room—his parents’ study, I think—by myself, and Matt followed, and he kissed me again. But here’s the thing, I didn’t feel anything. He wasn’t you. It has to be you, Nick, you’re… Well, you’re you.’

Nick looked up again, and found Dave studying him, a pained expression upon his face. ‘You kissed Matt twice?’ was all he managed to say.

Dave scratched his head in a frustrated gesture and sighed. ‘Haven’t you been listening?’ he said. ‘It doesn’t matter _who_ I kiss if it’s not you!’ He pulled Nick’s hand out of his pocket and held it in his. ‘No one has ever made me feel the way you do. No girls, no guys. So, am I gay? I don’t know. Does it matter? I’m in love with _you_!’ He kissed Nick’s knuckles, and Nick found himself having to blink away tears. 

‘Do you really mean that?’ he asked quietly.

‘Yes!’ said Dave. ‘I mean it. And that’s why I’m not ready to rush into sex, either. It’s nothing to do with us both being guys or whatever, it’s that I have never had sex and had it mean anything. I’ve had sex because that’s what I’m _supposed_ to do. I’m meant to be like that, to be a playboy or whatever, it’s what they all expect of me. And so, I’ve shagged my girlfriends because that’s what you do, and I’ve taken the instant gratification and been happy with that, but it’s meant fuck all.’

He let go of Nick’s hand and stood up properly, facing him. ‘And that’s what’s so great about you and me. Because even though I’ve had sex with girls before, in this I’m as much of a virgin as you are, and that makes everything wonderful and exciting, and fucking terrifying, and we get to feel the same things, together.’ He took Nick’s hand again and held it to his chest. Nick could feel the rhythm of Dave’s heart, doing double time. ‘So, let’s just take it slow, okay?’

Nick nodded, unable to speak for fear that he would break down crying in earnest. He stood up straight and put his arms around Dave’s waist, pulling him close. He buried his face in his shoulder, and Dave caressed the back of his neck lightly with his fingers. 

‘I still want you so badly it hurts, you know,’ Nick mumbled after a few moments.

Dave drew a shaky breath. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘And the feeling’s totally mutual, believe me… But let’s just… take it slow, yeah?’

Nick sighed and then nodded into Dave’s shoulder. ‘Yeah… Okay.’ 

It wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was to tear all Dave’s clothes off and make him scream. It was what he dreamt of at night, and thought of for most of the day. But he knew, inside, that what was going on here, what he had with Dave was much bigger and more important than sex. If Dave wanted to wait, they would wait. His left hand would do for now.

He pulled back a bit and looked up into Dave’s face. He looked concerned and perhaps a bit nervous. Nick smiled. Then he stood on tip-toe and placed his lips on Dave’s, trying to convey through the kiss everything he felt. It must have worked, because when he pulled away, Dave’s cheeks were visibly red even in the dim, yellow light of the street lamps, and he seemed breathless.

‘I—’ Dave’s voice broke slightly and he cleared his throat. ‘I should probably get home,’ he said. ‘Talk to you tomorrow?’

‘Yeah,’ said Nick with a grin, fantastically pleased with himself. ‘Good night!’ He kissed him again, and then turned to go back inside.

‘Sweet dreams,’ said Dave, softly.

Nick halted and looked over his shoulder at him. ‘Count on it.’


	12. Infra-Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _So I came down to wish you an unhappy birthday. Someone call the ambulance. There's gonna be an accident._  
>  \--'Infra-Red' by Placebo

‘Close your eyes.’ A pair of arms circled Nick’s waist from behind and a lean torso pressed up against his back. Nick smiled, and did as he was bid, closing his eyes and shutting out the bright midday sun gleaming down from above.

Lips brushed his earlobe lightly. ‘Happy birthday,’ whispered the voice, and Nick felt his knees go weak. ‘I have two presents for you,’ the voice continued. ‘One’s at home. I’m bringing it over to your place tonight for the whole birthday dinner thing. The other, I won’t be able to give you until the weekend… Do you want to know what it is?’

Nick licked his lips absently and nodded. His breath had grown slightly laboured and he felt suddenly light-headed. ‘What…’ He swallowed. ‘What is it?’

‘My parents are going out of town… So, if you want to… If you’re… ready…’ The voice paused for effect, and Nick’s heart rate increased further. ‘Then I think I’m ready, too,’ it finished.

Nick opened his eyes and turned around to face his lover. Dave’s eyes were bright, his cheeks slightly red in the cool air. His expression was expectant. A bit nervous, perhaps. 

Dave had made it clear that he wasn’t ready to move any further sexually, and Nick had respected that. He hadn’t pushed him and the two had just enjoyed exploring new ways to get one another hot without getting naked. Some days they would rut against one another, fully clothed, getting each other off that way—they had taken to carrying spare pants in their bags. Other days, they would just snog and touch each other until they were fit to burst and then part ways with blue balls, to finish off separately, occasionally aided by texts.

Nick’s heart leapt at the thought of finally moving on from that, taking their relationship to the next level.

‘Do… Do you really mean that?’ he asked.

‘Of course I mean it!’ said Dave, looking slightly offended. ‘I’m no tease!’

Nick raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeah you are,’ he said pointedly.

Dave grinned. ‘Yes, I am, but not that kind of a tease,’ he amended. ‘And I’m still all for taking it slow, but… I want to go further. And I have a feeling that once we do… we won’t be able to stop, so… No more baby steps. Giant leaps of intimacy from here on out.’

Nick bit his bottom lip and smiled up at his boyfriend. ‘I like the sound of that,’ he said. Then he pressed his lips to Dave’s. Dave’s lips parted almost immediately, and the kiss deepened, until they were both breathless and flushed. Nick whimpered slightly when they broke contact, pressing his forehead to the other’s shoulder. ‘Do I really have to wait until this weekend?’ he pouted.

‘Hey, if you wanted sexy times behind the bike shed, you should have planned ahead better than to have your birthday in February,’ Dave teased. ‘But this weekend… we’ll do anything you want, okay?’

Nick nodded against his shoulder.

* * *

Dave showed up just after six that evening, toting a fairly large, triangular box wrapped in brightly coloured paper under his arm, to have dinner with them. Craig wasn’t around. Zoë had seemed slightly upset with him when he had revealed that he had other plans which he wouldn’t cancel. Nick assumed the plans probably involved a rugby match down the pub with his mates. He didn’t mind in the least. He was far happier spending his birthday with the two people he cared for the most.

Zoë cooked chicken and oven roasted potatoes, and mushrooms fried with shallots and fresh rosemary, and a creamy herb sauce. Everything was delicious. Dave and Nick played footsie under the table for most of the dinner, while they talked about music and new films and other happy things. Afterward, they moved to the sofa where they had tea and a rich chocolate cake, and where presents were waiting.

Zoë gave him a couple of new books and a gift certificate for CDs. Considering the Christmas Fender Extravaganza, this was neither surprising nor disappointing. His father had sent him a birthday card with twenty quid in it, as per usual. His mother and Aunt Karen had sent him a Doctor Who box set and a lovely card.

Dave’s gift turned out to be a purple ukulele.

‘I hear all the cool kids have one of these nowadays,’ he said when Nick opened it. ‘Thought it could be a nice addition to your growing instrument collection.’

‘Wow, that’s… Dave, I love it!’ Nick picked it up and, after a quick tuning, began to try out chords.

‘Christ, is there any instrument you can’t just pick up and immediately play, Davis?’ asked Dave. Nick giggled.

‘It’s really very easy when you play the guitar already. It’s like the four highest strings with a capo on the fifth fret.’

‘And in non-musician, that means…?’

Nick kicked at his shins playfully. Dave laughed.

Just then, Zoë’s phone rang and she got up to take it in the kitchen.

Nick grinned at Dave, and when he was certain that Zoë was safe in the other room, he leaned over and placed a light peck on his lips. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘I think this just might be the best birthday ever!’

‘Think I could make it better?’ Dave whispered. ‘Maybe your sister would let us go to your room for a bit…’

The door from the kitchen opened, and Nick pulled back reluctantly, plucking at the strings of his new ukulele with slightly less enthusiasm than before. His jeans felt uncomfortably tight all of a sudden, and he crossed his legs carefully. 

Zoë smiled brightly at him, pocketing her phone. ‘That was Aunt Karen,’ she said. ‘She called to confirm the details of your last present.’

‘There’s another present?’ said Nick, frowning. 

‘Yes, there is,’ said Zoë. ‘Tomorrow, I’m picking you up after school, and we are driving to Coventry to have dinner with Mum!’

Nick’s face split into a grin. ‘Really?’

‘Really! She’s been doing so much better since Christmas, and Aunt Karen wanted to surprise both you and her. So tomorrow is Mum-day!’

‘Okay, yeah, officially best birthday ever!’ Nick declared happily.

* * *

Nick was less than thrilled about Craig joining them to go to Coventry, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped. At least he was almost good company today, chatting cheerfully and telling jokes in the car.

They arrived in Coventry just after five in the afternoon. Aunt Karen let them in with a smile.

‘Angie’s in her bedroom, napping,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you go in and wake her up?’

Nick nodded, grinning, and made his way through the flat. Aunt Karen’s flat was quite large and very modern, with light walls and hardwood floors. The sitting room was decorated in cream, beige and lime green, and contained a dozen orchids that Aunt Karen was shamelessly proud of, while the kitchen was all white-washed birch wood, glass cupboard doors and matte white appliances. Off the kitchen was Nick’s mother’s bedroom. He knocked, and when there was no answer, he opened the door.

He would forever remember how happy he felt, knowing that he was about to see his mother, knowing that she was doing better, thinking that she might come home soon. He was wholly unprepared for the sight that met him.

The room was dark, but somehow he felt, even before he could see, that something was very wrong. He stepped inside, and a sliver of light from the doorway hit his mother where she lay on the bed.

She was in a white nighty. Her eyes were closed, and the look on her face was oddly peaceful. Her arm hung out over the edge of the bed, and there was something dripping from it, onto the floor. Something red.

Nick took a step back. He felt sick. He opened his mouth. He must have said something, or cried out, because suddenly there were footsteps behind him. A gasp. Zoë’s arms around him from behind. 

Craig pushed past him, into the room, and knelt next to the bed, touching two fingers to Nick’s mother’s throat. ‘Dial 999,’ he said. ‘She’s still alive, do it!’

What followed was a blur. Afterwards, Nick remembered his own pale hands, the rushing sound of his heartbeat in his ears, the green of the paramedics’ uniforms, and a folded note on his mother’s desk. A kitchen knife on the night stand, next to an orange jar of sleeping pills.

And then he was sitting in a hospital waiting room, with his aunt and his sister and Craig, and the place felt eerily quiet. His mother was in another room, somewhere, receiving a blood transfusion and getting her wrists sewn back together, and all Nick could see was the colour red.

* * *

Dave’s mobile rang at around eleven that night, and he fumbled to get it out of his pocket before putting it to his ear.

‘Yeah?’ he said.

‘It’s me.’ Nick’s voice sounded flat and tired.

‘Hey!’ said Dave with a smile. ‘You have fun today?’

‘I probably won’t be able to come to your place this weekend.’

‘What’s up?’ asked Dave, frowning now. ‘You sound… Did something happen?’

‘We’re at the hospital,’ said Nick. ‘Mum, she… She tried to… She slit her wrists with a kitchen knife.’

Dave was stunned into silence. He cleared his throat, searched for words. ‘Is… is she—’

‘She’s alive,’ said Nick. ‘She was… I found…’ He trailed off, and Dave understood. Nick had found her. Nick had found his mum with her wrists cut. He was filled with a sudden fury. How could she do that?

Dave cleared his throat again. He didn’t quite know what to say. ‘I’m sorry,’ he tried. It felt like an empty phrase. ‘I can’t imagine what you—’

‘Think she remembered that it was my birthday yesterday?’ Nick interrupted. His voice sounded strained now. Choked.

Dave felt his eyes tear up. That was a parallel to the whole misery he hadn’t even considered yet. He remained silent.

‘If she did, this pretty much takes home the Oscar for worst birthday present ever,’ Nick continued. ‘Guess I should’ve realised that the universe wouldn’t let me be happy for this long without taking something back.’

‘Nick, don’t say that,’ said Dave quietly. ‘This… This has nothing to do with you!’

‘Of course it does!’ Nick snapped. ‘She felt like she had _nothing_ to live for! She would rather be dead than be my mum!’ Dave could hear the thickness in his voice, and then Nick sniffed. ‘She’d rather be dead and still and in a hole in the ground… than be with her family. She even left a note…’ He uttered a choked, sobbing sort of noise, and Dave wanted to climb through the telephone and take him in his arms and hold him.

‘Nick,’ he whispered. ‘Love… I don’t know what you’re going through… How could I? But please, listen to me… Whatever her reasons were, they were stupid and wrong, okay? She… She did it because she was depressed and psychotic. She did it because she was sick. Not because of you, not even because of the stuff that pushed her round the bend in the first place. Because something in her brain was _wrong_.’

Nick sniffed again, but made no response.

‘Are you okay?’ asked Dave, mentally kicking himself. Of course he wasn’t okay.

‘Yeah. No, I’m not, but… She’ll be awake soon. They’re letting us in to see her. I should go back to the others. We’re staying with Aunt Karen for a couple of days. I’ll probably be back home on Saturday.’

‘Okay.’ Dave paused, uncertain. ‘Nick?’

‘Yeah?’ 

Dave’s pulse pounded in his ears as he formed the words. ‘I love you.’

Nick’s breath hitched, and he let out a sort of half sob, half giggle. ‘Piss off, Dave. If you’re just saying that because—’

‘I’m not. I’m saying it because I mean it.’ Dave’s voice broke slightly, and he cleared his throat. His palms were sweaty. He waited nervously for a response.

Nick sniffed one more time. ‘I… I love you too,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you… for caring about me.’

* * *

Nick didn’t want to go in. He felt like if he saw her, he’d start shouting at her. But he went inside  the hospital room anyway.

The room was small and white and clinical. Nick’s mother lay in a metal frame bed with pristine white sheets. She looked smaller and paler than he’d ever seen her. Her eyes were glossy. Her wrists were both bandaged, and she was still getting a blood transfusion. She looked up when they entered, tried for a smile. No one returned it.

Her eyes fixed on Nick, and he forced himself to look back. ‘Nick,’ she said softly. ‘Come here, love…’

The simple request made Nick feel slightly sick. ‘No,’ he said stiffly. ‘I’m sorry, no. I don’t… I don’t want you to touch me.’

Her small smile disappeared, and she looked pleadingly at him. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘Please—’

‘You’re sorry?’

Nick turned around in astonishment upon hearing the voice. Craig’s hands were balled into fists and his expression was dark. ‘You’re telling your kids you’re _sorry_? How dare you! How can you do something like this to your own bloody children and then dare say you’re _sorry_?’

Nick felt an unexpected wave of gratitude towards the man, but Zoë took Craig’s hand gently. ‘Craig, please,’ she said. ‘Thank you, but… I think maybe you should go outside.’ 

Craig looked down at his feet and nodded, squeezing her hand. Then he left the room.

‘I think I should go too,’ said Nick, unable to look at his mother again. ‘I… I can’t be in here.’

Zoë nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘We’ll be out in a minute.’

Nick went back out into the waiting room and sat down next to Craig.

‘Thanks,’ he said softly. It was the last word he would ever have expected himself to say to Craig.

‘Hm,’ said Craig. He sighed. ‘I just couldn’t… I lost my mum, you know. When I was nine.’

Nick looked up, sharply. He had had no idea. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘Yeah. It was a car crash killed her,’ said Craig. ‘The idea that someone would… She has _kids_ , for fuck’s sake!’

Nick nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Well… thanks.’

‘No worries.’

* * *

Nick spent most of the Friday on Aunt Karen’s couch, going through her Bond DVDs from the beginning. He refused every offer of food, but by eleven in the evening he was starving, so he padded out into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich, resolutely refusing to look at the door to his mother’s bedroom.

She was still in the hospital, and she would be transferred directly to the psych ward when they were satisfied there was nothing more physically wrong with her.

Nick made it halfway through _Live and Let Die_ before he fell asleep where he sat. He picked it up again when he woke up the next morning, and when he was just about to start _Moonraker_ , Zoë announced that they were going back home.

Barely a word was spoken in the car. 

When they were nearly there a text from Dave buzzed in.

 _How are you holding up?_ it read.

 _I’ve been better._ Nick paused his writing, hesitant. Then he added, _Want to see you._

The reply was almost instantaneous.

_Should I come over?_

‘Zoë?’ Nick said quietly. 

‘Mm?’

‘Think… think Dave could come over for a bit, when we get back?’

‘Do you really think that’s appropriate?’ said Craig gruffly from the driver’s seat. Nick had to bite his tongue.

‘No, it’s okay,’ said Zoë. Her voice was very small. ‘It’s good, talking to your friends. Helps clear your head.’

 _Yes,_ Nick wrote.

* * *

Dave got there only a couple of minutes after they did. He greeted Zoë, who hugged him, and then he and Nick retreated to Nick’s room. Nick barely had time to shut the door before Dave pulled him into a fierce embrace, and Nick lost all the control he had been so carefully maintaining for the last couple of days. A sob shook him violently, and then he was crying, clinging to Dave. 

Dave kissed his hair, and murmured comforting words. Then he led Nick’s weeping self to the bed, and laid him down with his head in Dave’s lap.

When Nick had managed to calm down enough to speak, he said, ‘The worst part… No, not the worst part because that’s… But the thing is… I’m so angry with her! I don’t understand how she could do this, what would make her feel like she needed to… I hate her! And… and I love her… And she’s _my_ _mum_! It’s like… I can’t forgive her for wanting to die… And I can’t forgive her for still being alive.’

‘I know, love,’ said Dave and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on Nick’s temple. They stayed still for a while. Then Dave asked carefully, ‘Did you read the note?’

Nick shook his head. ‘Not yet. I’m not sure if I can… I don’t want to know her excuses.’

‘Well, when and if you’re ready, let me know. I’ll be there with you when you read it.’

A surge of gratitude and love coursed through Nick, then. He rolled over onto his back and gazed up at Dave’s face. He lifted his hand to stroke his cheek, and choked back a sob. Dave’s expression was kind, and sad, and his blue eyes glistened with tears, and Nick thought, _Those are for me._

He pulled Dave down towards him and kissed him on the lips. ‘I love you,’ he said softly, and it felt so good to be able to say those words—words that had been waiting to be said for far too long.

Dave smiled a watery smile. ‘I love you, too.’


	13. Something Rotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Down here, down here, I know its not, it's all forgotten. Down here, down here, face down, I miss you something rotten. There's something rotten down here..._  
>  \--'Something Rotten', by Placebo.

The following Monday, Nick returned to school. Dave saw him briefly in passing when he arrived, and tried to give him an encouraging smile, but they had no lessons together that morning.

Dave, Chas, Alan and Matt ate lunch together, as had become customary, and afterwards, they strolled out into the courtyard. Dave was keeping an eye out for Nick when Alan elbowed him in the ribs to get his attention.

‘So, is it true?’ asked Alan.

‘Is what true?’ Dave looked at him, confused. He hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation at all.

‘Weren’t you listening? That Davis’s mum tried to kill herself, of course!’

Dave stared at him for a moment. How had he found out? Some teacher blabbing in the teacher’s lounge, he supposed. How did these things always have a way of reaching the student body sooner rather than later?

‘How the hell should I know?’ said Dave with a quirk of his eyebrow.

‘You just always seem to know, where he’s concerned,’ said Alan, shrugging. ‘Never mind, there he is, I’ll ask him myself!’

Dave blinked. ‘What? No!’ 

‘Hey, Davis!’ Alan called. ‘Is it true ’bout your mum? She really slit her wrists?’

Dave stared for a moment, disbelieving. Was Alan actually saying this? 

Nick resolutely kept his eyes on the ground before him and kept walking past. Alan tried again. ’Oi! Davis! I’m talking to you!’

‘Alan, come on, leave him be…’ said Dave weakly.

Alan ignored him. ‘Hey! Answer me! God, you’re pathetic. No wonder she tried to off herself.’

A deathly silence fell around them then. Everyone who had been close enough to hear what had been said stared at Alan in utter shock and disbelief. 

And then Dave was filled with a rage, more potent than anything he’d ever felt before. His body shook with it, and anger and disappointment flooded him until he didn’t know which was which anymore. 

This was Alan. This was his best friend! How could he say something like that? Dave knew he was a bully. Alan had always been a bully. But this—This was beyond his regular schoolyard tactics. Alan had crossed a line, and everyone seemed to see it, except for Alan himself.

If ever there had been a time for Dave to speak up on Nick’s behalf, secrecy be damned, it was now, and he opened his mouth to do so, but to his astonishment, Matt beat him to it.

‘That is well out of order!’ he growled, hands balled into fists, a dark expression on his face.

‘What?’ said Alan, staring incredulously at him.

‘Yeah, Alan, that is so not okay,’ Dave managed lamely.

‘Yeah, man, it’s not cool,’ Chas echoed, surprising Dave most of all with the sincerity in his voice.

‘Come on, you guys, this is _Davis_!’ said Alan. At last, Dave found his voice properly.

‘I don’t care if he’s bloody—’ he racked his brain for an appropriate name, ‘—Mussolini, you don’t say shit like that to someone!’ he shouted. ‘Not to anyone, you hear?’

‘But—but he’s just… I’m your friend!’ said Alan weakly.

‘So is he!’ said Dave, before he could stop himself, and suddenly all eyes were on him. ‘I mean… I’m sick of all this… this shit, I just… I don’t want to fight with people anymore.’

‘But… I… What?’ Incomprehension shone on Alan’s face.

‘You heard me!’ said Dave, his nerve returning. ‘I’ve been letting you get away with a lot of shit because you’re my _friend_ , Alan, but you’ve crossed a line, okay? And it’s _because_ you’re my friend that I need to tell you that right now you’re behaving like a complete and utter cunt!’

Alan looked like Dave had slapped him. He opened his mouth, as though he were about to argue, and promptly closed it again, staring down at his shoes, his face flushing bright crimson. ‘’M sorry,’ he mumbled. 

‘Don’t apologise to me, apologise to _him_!’ said Dave hotly. 

‘It… it’s okay,’ said Nick in a small voice, and they all turned to look at him. He stood off to the side, gaze fixed on the ground, arms around himself, and he looked so tiny and vulnerable and sad that Dave wanted to hold him and kiss him and make everything better. ‘It’s fine.’

‘It bloody well is not!’ said Matt, outraged. ‘It is not _fine_ or _okay_!’

‘No, it is, though. Don’t make a big deal, just… Just don’t.’

Dave approached Nick slowly and a bit cautiously. It was a strange new feeling to try to comfort him in public. In the end, he opted for putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘Nick,’ he said softly. ‘Come on. Let’s… let’s go inside, yeah?’

Nick nodded, but didn’t look at him. Dave suspected he didn’t trust himself to. It was difficult enough for Dave being this close to him without grabbing on for dear life. It must have been even harder for Nick, in his current state. 

Dave put his arm around Nick’s shoulders and marched him into the school building. Matt fell into step on the other side of Nick, and Alan was left to stand looking after them, like a man who had just witnessed a paradigm shift and hadn’t yet realised what he’d seen. Chas hung back, too, hopefully, thought Dave, to speak to Alan. He would too, soon, but for now, Nick was far more important. 

They walked down to the basement level, where there was rarely anyone about. Dave sat Nick down in the deserted stairwell and knelt before him, studying his face. Matt remained standing, looking up towards the ground floor as if daring Alan to follow them. He didn’t.

Nick’s head was bowed forward, his hands fisted in his trousers. A couple of silent tears dripped onto the black fabric, staining it darker. Dave wanted to put his arms around him, but was uncomfortably aware of Matt’s presence. 

‘Matt,’ he said, quietly. ‘Think you could go get some tissue paper or something? Maybe water?’

‘Huh?’ Matt looked at him. ‘Oh, yeah. I’ll… be right back.’ He sauntered up the stairs.

The minute he was gone, Dave flung his arms around Nick, holding him tightly. Nick released a sob, and then pulled a few shuddering breaths. Dave pulled back again, studied his teary grey eyes, and pressed a quick, hard kiss to his lips. 

‘I am _so_ sorry,’ he said emphatically, taking Nick’s hand. 

Nick gave a strangled laugh. ‘What are _you_ sorry about? You’re not responsible for him.’

‘Maybe not, but… I can’t believe he’d actually say that.’

‘He’s hurting. As with everything else, he’s just lashing out.’

‘How can you be so calm about it?’

Nick sighed, rubbing his eyes. ‘Because I’m used to dealing with bullies. I know what they’re like, I know what they do. I know how they work. The harder things are for them, the meaner they get.’

Dave shook his head, staring in earnest admiration. ‘You know, you’re the kindest, bravest person I know.’ He heard footsteps approaching and let go of Nick’s hand. A moment later, Matt appeared with a bottle of water and a wad of tissues. He handed them to Nick, who looked up at him and smiled.

‘Thank you.’

‘No problem,’ said Matt, sitting down on the stair next to him. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah,’ said Nick. ‘I’ll be fine. Alan’s just… He’s an idiot.’

‘You shouldn’t make excuses for him.’

‘I know. I’m not. But I shouldn’t have let him get to me.’

Matt smiled, and put a comforting hand on Nick’s arm, and for a moment Dave felt very jealous, and thought that Matt had better not get any ideas.

‘Break’s almost over,’ said Dave quietly. He glanced at Nick again, resisting the urge to touch. ‘What are you going to do?’

Nick sighed. ‘I think I’ll just go home. I… I shouldn’t have come in today. It’s not like I have the attention span to learn anything, anyway.’

Dave nodded. ‘It’s probably for the best,’ he agreed. ‘I should go find Alan…’

‘Oh, fuck Alan!’ said Matt, angrily. ‘Let him stew.’

Dave shook his head. ‘I can’t. I have to—He can be better than this, I know it.’

‘More than a decade of friendship… not easily forgotten, really,’ Nick supplied. ‘I get it. But… Thanks, both of you, for standing up for me. It was good of you.’

‘No, it wasn’t,’ said Dave. ‘It was the only decent thing to do.’

* * *

Lessons had already resumed by the time Dave found Alan outside. He was sitting on a bench in a corner of the courtyard. His arms were folded protectively over his chest, hands tucked into his armpits, and his left leg was bouncing up and down in an agitated manner. Chas was standing opposite him, staring down at him in obvious frustration, while Alan resolutely refused to meet his gaze. Chas looked up at Dave’s approach and, throwing his hands up exasperatedly, said, ‘You talk to him. I’m done.’ Then he walked away, leaving Dave and Alan alone.

‘What the hell was that?’ Dave asked Alan, feeling angry again. 

‘Piss off!’ was all he got for a reply. 

‘Alan—’

‘Look, I get it, all right?’ Alan snapped. ‘I was out of order, can’t say shit like that, blah, blah, blah. Message noted. What else do you want?’ He stared resolutely down at the ground.

Dave folded his arms across his chest and nodded. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Will you apologise to Nick?’

Alan’s head snapped up and he stared incredulously. ‘Apolo—No, I sodding well will _not_ apologise to _Nick_! Since when is he _Nick_?’

‘Since right now!’ Dave responded, his voice gaining an edge again. ‘I’m… I’m so bloody sick of it, Alan. All of it. Truth is—’ He hesitated. Part of him wanted to say, to hell with it, tell him everything, get it out in the open, be done with it all. But he couldn’t do that. Not yet. Not now. ‘Truth is we’ve actually been friends for a while now. I just… didn’t know how to tell you, or anyone.’ It sounded lame, rehearsed, fake, like a line from a movie.

‘Well, bollocks to you, then,’ said Alan, looking away. ‘You’d think that’s the sort of development you’d share with your _best mate_!’

‘I’d think my best mate wouldn’t be this much of a prat!’ Dave retorted darkly. ‘You’re better than this, Alan. You’ll come round.’ He turned to leave.

‘Wait!’ said Alan, and he turned back. Alan stared at him, his expression unreadable. He worked his jaw and swallowed several times, but whatever he’d been meaning to say, he didn’t seem able to get it out.

Dave had known Alan for a long time, though. He could hazard a guess. ‘I’m not abandoning you,’ he said softly. ‘If you need me…’ He left it implied. 

Alan scoffed and looked away again. ‘Don’t be gay!’ he muttered. Dave ignored him and left.

Chas was waiting for him by the entrance to the school. ‘How’d it go?’ he asked. Dave noted that his accent had inexplicably changed, from faux Brixton to watered down Black Country.

‘He’ll come round,’ Dave repeated, more for his own benefit than anything else. ‘He’s just… stubborn.’

‘Tell me about it…’ Chas stuck his hands in his pockets and puffed up his cheeks, blowing out a sigh. Dave studied his face curiously.

‘ _You’ve_ turned out to have hidden depths,’ he said eventually. ‘Who are you and what’ve you done with Chas the Chav?’

Chas glanced at him, one eyebrow cocked. ‘Can’t a bloke have layers?’ he asked. Then he smiled wanly. ‘I know you guys think I’m stupid. I don’t mind. Makes life… simple. When people don’t expect anything from me. Most people never bother to look past the exterior. But,’ he extracted his hands from his pockets and stood up straight, ‘today’s a day for surprises. If you can develop a heart, I can develop a brain. All we need now is courage for Alan… Anyway, maybe it’s time people start taking me seriously. Starting with you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Dave.

Chas shrugged. ‘Not your fault. I’ve never given you cause to think I’m any different.’

‘Well, now I know.’

‘Now you know,’ Chas agreed. ‘Don’t go spreadin’ it round, though. Got a reputation to maintain, innit?’ He grinned, the same old silly grin, but for the first time Dave recognised a keen intelligence in those pale blue eyes.

* * *

Dave went over to Nick’s house after school that day, to check on him. He found him curled up on his bed, listening to some of the saddest music Dave had ever heard.

‘Hey,’ said Dave, sitting down on the bed and stroking his hair.

‘Hey,’ said Nick. His voice was quiet and flat. He looked like he’d been crying, his eyes red and puffy.

‘Who are you listening to?’ asked Dave.

‘Tom McRae,’ said Nick.

‘He sounds sad.’

‘Yeah.’

Nick sat up a bit, looking at Dave. There was a question in his eyes, but he seemed to hesitate.

‘What is it?’ Dave prompted gently. 

‘I…’ Nick looked away. ‘I think I’d like to read the note now.’

Dave nodded. ‘Okay. Where is it?’

‘Downstairs. Kitchen. Zoë put it on the shelf above the cooker.’

Dave nodded again. ‘I’ll get it.’

He found the note where Nick had said it would be. It was written on a lined sheet of A5 paper, folded once, the words _To Nick and Zoë_ written on the front.

He walked up the stairs slowly, carrying the note almost reverently. He knocked once before going back into Nick’s room. His boyfriend was sitting just where he’d left him, staring straight ahead.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ asked Dave as he sat down.

Nick shook his head. ‘No. But I’m going to anyway.’

‘Has Zoë read it?’ asked Dave.

‘I think so. We haven’t talked about it.’

Dave licked his lips and looked away. Then he took a deep breath and handed the note to Nick.

Nick only looked at it for a few moments. Then he stretched his hand out, hesitantly, and took the note from him. He unfolded it. His eyes moved across the page as he read, his face going red and his eyes filling up with tears. Then he handed the note back to Dave. ‘Read it,’ he said, expression oddly blank.

Dave did as he was bid.

 

_My dear children,_

_I am so sorry. I know these words won’t mean anything to you, after everything that’s happened, but I want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I haven’t been a mother to you. I’m sorry that I haven’t looked after you. I’m sorry that I’ve been nothing but a burden on my family for the past four years._

_It is my hope that, in doing this, I set you free. I’ll be in a better place, and you won’t have to worry about me. I know you do worry, because you’re beautiful, good people. Better than I. Certainly better than your father. So I want you to be free. I want you both to live._

_Zoë, as soon as you’re able I want you to go back to uni, get your education, do what you were meant to do._

_And Nick, hearing you sing and play has always made me happier than I can possibly say. Never stop! You have a god-given talent, a gift._

_I know my decision won’t make any sense to you. I know it isn’t rational. And I’m not asking you to forgive me. I would never expect you to do that. But I want you both to know that I love you._

_I want you both to live._

 

Dave didn’t realise that he was crying until one of his teardrops hit the paper. He looked up, blinking away the tears. Let the note fall to the floor and put his arms around Nick, hugging him hard. Nick sobbed into his shoulder, his breathing coming in sudden, quick bursts. Then his body shook and he seemed to give himself over to it, letting the tears come without reservation. Dave stroked his hair and murmured soothing words.

They must have sat like that for several minutes, ten, perhaps even twenty. Dave couldn’t be certain. At last, Nick pulled away a little. His face was splotchy, his nose red. Dave thought fleetingly that Nick must be the only person in the world who still looked beautiful even when his cheeks were stained with tears and his upper lip coated in snot. 

They didn’t talk about the note, but Dave could imagine how it had made Nick feel. If he had been angry with his mother before, it would be nothing to how he must feel about her now. But at the same time, reading the note seemed to have provided some form of catharsis, and something about Nick’s posture and the look in his eyes seemed lighter now, as though he’d let go of something.

Dave didn’t ask if he was okay. The question would have been redundant, as he was obviously not. Instead, he reached into his bag for a pack of kleenex and handed some to Nick so he could wipe the tears from his face and blow his nose. Then he took Nick’s face in his hands.

‘Look at me,’ he said softly, and Nick did. ‘I love you.’

Then he kissed him, and Nick kissed him back fiercely. When they pulled apart, they steepled their foreheads together and Nick released a short laugh.

‘What?’ asked Dave, giving him another peck on the lips.

‘You know, I’m almost starting to believe you,’ said Nick.

‘I need to work harder, then,’ said Dave, smiling. ‘I love you,’ he said again, putting his arms around Nick and holding him close. ‘I love you.’

‘Not as much as I love you,’ came the muffled reply, and Dave slapped the back of his head playfully. ‘Ow!’ Nick complained.

‘That’s for doubting me! I have never, ever felt this way about anyone,’ said Dave, and then he repeated the three words again, several times, like a bad movie, but he didn’t care about that. He needed to get his point across. Now, more than ever, Nick needed to know that he was loved. 

This time, Nick only nodded into his shoulder and said, ‘I love you, too.’

* * *

Things were easier after that, and so much harder, too. They couldn’t suddenly appear to be best friends, but now, Dave and Nick could at least converse openly at school, though it made it that much more difficult not to appear too close. As such, they retained use of the space behind the shed, for quick, desperate snogs where no one could see them, and for the conversations that couldn’t be had elsewhere. It seemed to make everything a little easier for Nick, seemed to lift part of the load off his shoulders, and if it could do that, it was all worth it.

Dave had supposed it would only be a matter of time before news that they were friends reached his father, but after two weeks had passed and nothing had happened, it began to seem like he may have got away this time. 

Two weeks was also almost precisely the amount of time it took for Alan to speak to him again. 

‘Can I use your ruler?’ were the first five words offered. The four that followed, as Dave handed him the item in question, were, ‘I’ll leave Davis alone.’

‘Good,’ said Dave. He waited patiently as Alan drew the hypothenuse on his triangle.

Alan handed the ruler back to him and said, very quietly, ‘Could… Think you could tell him sorry for me?’

Dave took the ruler from him and replaced in onto his desk. He wanted to tell Alan to tell Nick himself, but thought better of it. No point in antagonising his best friend any further. ‘Yeah, all right,’ he said. 

And that was that. Alan did not speak to Nick, and for the most part disappeared whenever the others were talking to him, but he seemed to grudgingly accept his presence, and kept his word. It was probably, Dave reasoned, the best case scenario. And things were okay for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom McRae makes by far the saddest music in all of England. For some reason he's more or less an unknown at home still, while he's reached a certain amount of fame for instance in Norway, for some unknown reason.
> 
> Listen to [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CDx6nHExwRw) and, if you really want to cry, [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QXq3r9vqYHk).


	14. Black Eyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I was never faithful, and I was never one to trust. Borderlining schizo and guaranteed to cause a fuss. I was never loyal, except to my own pleasure zone. I'm forever black-eyed, a product of a broken home._  
>  \--'Black Eyed', by Placebo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsting this down even more now, just so you know.

Nick lay on his back in the cool, green grass of his back garden, staring up at the blue sky where fluffy clouds moved lazily in the spring breeze. It wasn’t quite t-shirt weather yet, but Nick had stubbornly braved the temperature and refused to wear long sleeves.

He rolled over onto his side to look at Dave, who lay next to him, eyes closed, all but purring like a cat in the sunlight. He had opted for a blue and black striped long sleeve, not quite as desperate for spring as Nick was. Nick smiled. It wasn’t something he’d been doing a lot lately, but he took his happiness where he could find it. 

Things had been better for a while, though Nick was sleeping very badly, plagued by blood red dreams. Openly being friends with Dave, to the extent of being included when he hung out with his friends (so long as Alan wasn’t there), had made everything easier. Nick had found himself getting along with Matt especially well, as he liked a lot of the same bands as Nick and played the bass. It had kept him away from destructive thoughts. 

Nick had come close to cutting himself twice in the past few weeks. It was something he’d done a few times in the past, by way of a distraction, but never systematically, and never for attention. This time, two things had stopped him. One had been the thought of the look on Dave’s face when he saw the cuts. Nick might be able to keep them from his sister, but not from Dave. The other had been the thought of his mother, and the manner of her attempted suicide. It had replaced the pain with anger and made him determined not to do anything like what his mother had done.

Councillors at school had set him up with a shrink, to help him deal with his trauma, whom he visited every Wednesday. His psychologist was a young man named Evan. Evan had, as of yet, been unable to get much out of Nick, who felt he got enough help just talking to Dave and Mel, though the latter was getting busy studying for her AS-levels at the moment.

Still, just sitting in that quiet room for half an hour every week talking about the weather was somehow helpful. It gave Nick some space, allowed his mind to rest for a while. He was grateful to Evan, really.

The Easter holidays had brought with them a break from the shrink as well as from school, though. And Nick and Dave were free to spend as much time together as they pleased. Chas had gone to stay with his grandparents in the Black Country, Matt was spending the holidays with friends in Birmingham, and Alan’s dad had found a job for him which, Dave had told Nick, he was reluctant to divulge the details of, leading them to believe it had something to do with sanitation. What this all meant was that Dave had no obligation to spend time with anyone but Nick, which suited them both just fine.

Nick reached over and traced a circular pattern on Dave’s cheek. Dave raised his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun before opening them and looking at him.

‘Hey,’ said Nick.

‘Hey,’ said Dave, and smiled. 

‘It’s spring,’ said Nick.

‘I know.’

They looked at each other, silent, for a while. Then Nick leaned down and kissed his boyfriend on the lips. Dave put his hand on the small of Nick’s back, and Nick swung one leg over him, laying down on top of him and enjoying the warmth beneath him as they kissed.

Dave’s other hand landed on Nick’s upper arm, and he broke the kiss.

‘You should wear a jacket. You’ll catch a cold,’ said Dave, stroking Nick’s goose prickle covered arm with his fingertips.

‘I shan’t. It’s spring.’

‘Spring, not summer,’ Dave reminded him, an amused smile gracing his features. ‘You’ll be no good to me if you catch a cold.’

‘I’m fine!’ said Nick dismissively. ‘You’re hot enough for the both of us.’ He smirked, pleased with his own wit, and Dave shook his head.

‘Fine, don’t come crying to me when you’re stuck indoors all Easter.’ Dave glanced at his watch and sighed. ‘I should go soon. Jason’s arriving in an hour, and then my parents will be leaving for the airport. I should see them off.’

‘Yeah, all right,’ said Nick, with a slight pout. ‘Guess it can’t be helped. I’ll see you soon, though, yeah?’ 

‘Definitely!’ said Dave, grinning, and captured his lips again. ‘I’ll ring you later, okay?’

* * *

‘Dave! Goodness, how you’ve grown!’ 

‘Shut up, Jason!’ said Dave, grinning. He gave his cousin a brief hug. ‘How’ve you been?’

‘Excellent, excellent! Stressed out of my mind with this dissertation, but otherwise fantastic. Yourself? Got a new girlfriend yet?’

Dave shook his head. ‘Nope. Free as a bird, me.’

Jason grinned at him. ‘That’s the spirit! No good tying yourself down yet.’ He ruffled his hair fondly. 

Jason was twenty-five years old and very cool. Dave had worshipped him for most of his life. Jason was tall, with auburn hair and bright green eyes. His left ear was pierced, and he rode a motorcycle. Prior to starting his Mathematics degree, he had spent most of his savings backpacking around the world for about three years. He had stories to tell from Cambodia, Nepal, Tanzania, Argentina, Australia, to mention a few, and had even spent six months on Checkpoint Watch in Palestine, helping Palestinian kids get to school safely. He was the very antithesis to Dave’s father, but he was family, and as such George Thompson accepted him and was quite happy to leave his son in his care, despite Dave’s protests that he was sixteen and quite capable of looking after himself, thank you very much.

Dave’s father was pulling on his gloves. ‘Right, then,’ he said. ‘We’ll be off. No parties, no alcohol, no staying out all night. I trust you can handle this, Jason?’

‘Yes, Uncle George,’ said Jason with a smile. ‘I’d prefer peace and quiet, anyway, if I’m gonna solve P=NP.’

Dave’s father paused and looked at him, eyebrow raised.

‘I’m not actually solving P=NP,’ said Jason. ‘That was a joke.’

‘I see,’ said Dave’s father. He shook Jason’s hand, and then Dave’s, and picked up his suitcase.

‘Goodbye, then,’ said Dave’s mother, giving them both awkward hugs. 

‘Bye, mum,’ said Dave. ‘Have fun in Lanzarote!’

Dave and Jason waved them off from the front steps, as the taxi drove away. When the door was closed, Jason turned to Dave.

‘So, I’ll buy the booze and you’ll invite the hookers?’ he said. Dave laughed and picked up Jason’s bag.

‘How’s about I show you where you sleep, first?’ he said, still grinning.

‘Lead the way, young Padawan,’ said Jason solemnly with an elaborate gesture.

* * *

‘Maybe I shouldn’t go,’ said Zoë. She stood in the hall, her left hand on the handle of her suitcase, purse dangling from her right elbow and car keys in her hand. She looked at Nick with a pained expression. She had changed her mind half a dozen times in the last hour. ‘It’s so soon after… I mean, I don’t want to leave you alone!’

‘He won’t be alone, babs, I’ll be here,’ said Craig.

‘And I’ll be just fine,’ Nick supplied. ‘ _Go_. Have a good time with the girls. You need a holiday. And _stop worrying_ about me!’

Zoë bit her lip. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked.

‘ _Yes_!’ said Nick exasperatedly. ‘Go away!’

Zoë smiled. ‘All right, all right. You’ll ring me if you need anything, right? Anything at all?’

‘I promise,’ said Nick. He kissed her on the cheek.

Craig picked up her suitcase and walked it out to the car for her. Zoë followed, giving Nick one last smile. She kissed Craig goodbye at the car, got in the driver’s seat, waved to Nick who stood in the open doorway, and backed out of the drive, just as the first raindrops began to fall.

‘Guess it’s just you and me now,’ said Nick as Craig returned to the house.

‘Guess so,’ said Craig, shutting the door behind him. He glanced at Nick. ‘Tell you what. If you don’t bother me, I won’t bother you.’

‘Deal,’ said Nick, smiling politely. Then he headed up the stairs, as Craig disappeared into the kitchen.

Nick lay down on his back on his bed, pulling his mobile out of his pocket, and dialled Dave’s number. It only rang twice.

‘So now Zoë’s gone,’ said Nick. ‘She’ll be back Monday. ’Til then it’s just me and Craig the Creep. Who admittedly is less creepy than he used to be, but…’ He sighed into the phone. He was lying on his back on his bed. 

‘You should come over tomorrow,’ said Dave’s voice. ‘Jason won’t mind. He’s busy working on his dissertation, anyway.’

‘Wish I could come over now,’ said Nick. ‘I miss you…’

‘I love how you can miss me when it’s only been a couple of hours since we saw each other,’ Dave teased. There was a brief silence. ‘I miss you too,’ he admitted after a moment.

Nick smiled. ‘Dave,’ he said, rolling over onto his side. ‘Tell me what we’ll do tomorrow.’

Dave was quiet for a moment. ‘I dunno…’ he said, slowly. ‘What do you mean?’

Nick hesitated as he felt a blush creep up his cheeks. ‘I mean…’ He swallowed. ‘I mean, what do you want to do when I… When I get to your place?’

‘Oh,’ said Dave. Another silence followed. ‘Well… I guess we’ll go to my room…’

‘What will we do there?’ asked Nick, his breathing growing slightly shallow.

‘What do you _want_ to do there?’ Dave countered.

Nick drew a ragged breath. ‘I want to kiss you,’ he said. ‘I want to take off your shirt and look at you, and feel your skin…’ He ran a hand through his hair and swallowed again. ‘Fuck, I just want to be with you…’

‘Yeah, me too,’ said Dave. ‘Most of all I think I just want to hold you…’

‘Yeah.’ Nick sighed and turned back onto his back. ‘I like the sound of that.’

There was a sound in the background. ‘Fuck it…’ Dave muttered. ‘I have to go, Nick. Jason’s calling me.’

‘Yeah, okay,’ said Nick. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.’

He gave another sigh as he hung up, uncomfortably aware of his erection, but somehow he didn’t feel like doing anything to alleviate it. Tomorrow was the day, he decided. They had waited long enough. He didn’t want to wait any longer.

His bedroom door creaked and he looked up suddenly, to find Craig staring at him from the doorway. He had an unpleasant look on his face.

‘Who were you talking to?’ he asked.

‘Why do you want to know?’ Nick asked, pocketing his mobile and sitting up.

‘I think you were talking to your little friend Dave,’ said Craig. Nick said nothing, but he felt his pulse quicken. How much had Craig overheard? ‘I certainly can’t think of anyone else who’d want to talk to you.’ Craig took a step inside the room. ‘I knew it!’ he hissed. ‘I knew you were a dirty little bender!’ His eyes glinted madly, and he advanced on Nick.

* * *

Dave was in the kitchen making beans on toast when there came a knock on the front door. He turned off the gas and walked out into the hallway, wondering who it could be.

He opened the front door, and there stood Nick. He was hugging himself awkwardly and looking down at the ground. He was wearing Dave’s black leather jacket and his clothes were sodden with spring rain. He looked miserable.

‘Hey there,’ said Dave.

‘Hey…’ mumbled Nick, still not looking at him.

‘This is a surprise.’ Dave opened the door wider. ‘Come in.’

Nick took a tentative step forward, into the hallway.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Dave. ‘Hey, look at me.’ He reached out a hand to touch Nick’s cheek. Nick flinched away at first, but then he lifted his gaze to Dave’s. His cheeks were red. Tear stained, perhaps?

‘What’s happened?’ asked Dave, sharply.

‘Craig,’ Nick said, quietly. ‘He was…’ He looked away again. ‘He figured it out. He heard me on the phone with you, and he figured it out. Called me names. Said he was gonna knock the queer out of me,’ he said bitterly.

Dave grabbed hold of him then, and held him close. ‘It’s all right,’ he whispered, stroking Nick’s hair gently. ‘You’re here now. You’re safe. You can stay here ’til Zoë gets back. My parents won’t be back ’til next Tuesday.’

Nick nodded into his shoulder.

‘Who was it?’ came a voice from the living room. Nick and Dave quickly broke apart as Jason appeared in the doorway to the living room.

‘This is Nick,’ said Dave. ‘He’s a friend. He’s having some trouble at home, so would it be okay if he stayed here for a little while?’

‘Of course,’ said Jason at once. ‘No problem. Uncle George said no parties, but he didn’t say anything about friends sleeping over, one at a time.’ He smiled, and shook hands with Nick.

‘Come on,’ said Dave. ‘Let’s get you some dry clothes.’

He led the way up the stairs to his room. Nick followed. When they got up there, Dave sat Nick down on the bed and began to rummage in his closet for something that would fit.

‘They’re a bit old,’ he said, handing Nick a pair of jeans and a yellow t-shirt, ‘but they should fit you better than the stuff you borrowed last time.’

Nick nodded. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘For helping me.’

‘Of course I’ll help you!’ said Dave. He sat down next to him and took his hand. ‘I love you.’

Nick turned his face towards him. Dave reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. Then he leaned in close and kissed him. Nick kissed him back, fiercely and urgently. They climbed further up on the bed, and Dave began to remove Nick’s wet shirt. He caressed the pale skin of his torso, where angry bruises were already forming. They broke apart and looked into each other’s eyes.

‘I’m never letting anyone hurt you again,’ Dave said fiercely. ‘He’s never coming near you again, you understand? Never!’ He was fully aware of how cheesy he sounded, but he didn’t care. He leaned in and kissed Nick again, more softly but just as passionately, hand still caressing his chest.

Tears welled up in Nick’s eyes again. He broke the kiss and buried his face in the other boy’s shoulder, a sob shaking his body violently.

Dave put his arms around him and just held him, stroking his hair, kissing his neck. After a while, Nick’s tears stopped falling, and the sobbing ceased, but they stayed like that for a while longer anyway.

Afterwards, Dave fetched a wet flannel from the bathroom. He returned to find Nick sitting on the edge of the bed with a faraway look in his eyes.

‘Hey,’ said Dave, sitting next to him. 

‘Hey,’ Nick responded automatically, still staring straight ahead. His voice was flat. Dave examined his bruises, running the cool flannel over them soothingly. They appeared most prominent around his abdomen, his sides and his upper arms and shoulders. Here they looked like finger marks, like someone had grabbed and squeezed. Held him down, maybe?

Nick shuddered every time Dave touched one of the bruises with the flannel.

‘Does it hurt?’ Dave asked.

Nick nodded, slowly. ‘A bit,’ he replied, voice still flat.

‘What did he do to you?’

Nick was quiet for a few moments, working his jaw and swallowing.

‘He, er… He came into my room after I hung up with you. Accused me. Called me queer. I told him it was none of his damn business… So he punched me, here.’ He touched a hand to the side of his stomach. ‘Many times, until I couldn’t stand up. Thought I was gonna be sick. Then…’ Nick shuddered, looking down at his hands.

‘Yes?’ Dave prompted. ‘What happened next?’

‘He loosened his belt… Flung me down on the bed, on my stomach…’

His voice was getting quavery and his eyes teared up again. Dave took his hand, his body shaking with rage.

‘Did he…?’ He couldn’t finish the sentence, it was too much to take in. He struggled to keep his voice even. He swallowed and tried again. ‘Did he—’

Nick said nothing, but nodded, squeezing his hand to cut him off. He cleared his throat. ‘He said… Erm, he said that if I liked taking it up the arse so much he’d teach me better manners… He… he held me down…’ Nick’s lips quivered and his wide eyes shifted restlessly, still not looking at Dave. ‘He held me down,’ he whispered, helplessly, and Dave put his arms around him again, holding him tightly. He stroked his hair soothingly. The flannel lay forgotten on the bed.

‘I’m sorry, Nick, I’m so sorry,’ he whispered, unable to find anything better to say. Nick’s body shook violently in his arms, and he held him tighter. ‘I’m so, so sorry…’

‘When he’d finished,’ Nick croaked through the sobs, ‘it was like he came to his senses, realised what he’d done. The look on his face… He disappeared, I heard him turn on the shower, so I got up and I ran. Didn’t look back…’

‘Good,’ said Dave. ‘I’m glad you came here. You’re safe here. It’s all right. You’re safe.’ He kissed the top of Nick’s head. ‘You’re safe…’

They stayed like that, on the bed, for a good while. Dave felt awkward and useless and angry. He wished he could erase what had happened to Nick. He wanted to beat Craig to a pulp, give him a taste of his own medicine, but he knew that wasn’t an option.

‘Would you like me to run you a bath?’ he asked after a little while. 

Nick pulled away. Sniffed. Nodded stiffly.

So Dave went into the bathroom once more and began to fill the enormous bathtub. Then he busied himself with finding towels, clean pants and a spare toothbrush for Nick. When the bath was halfway full, he went over to the doorway.

‘Nick?’ he said, softly. It took a moment before Nick responded, but he got up slowly and made his way towards him. Halfway there, he clamped a hand over his mouth and broke into a run, making a beeline for the toilet. He sunk to his knees and vomited.

Dave sat down on the floor next to him, stroked his heaving back with one hand and holding his fringe away from his eyes with the other. When Nick’s heaving and coughing subsided, he slumped on the floor in the foetal position. Dave stroked his hair in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

‘Shh, it’s okay,’ he whispered. ‘It’s all right, love, you’re safe…’ He repeated those words, ‘you’re safe,’ just as much for his own benefit as for Nick’s. He felt like they were all he had to offer, and he wanted them to be true.

The bathtub began to overflow, and he got up to turn the tap off and drain a little bit of the water. Then he flushed the toilet and helped Nick to his feet. He filled his toothbrush cup with water so Nick could rinse out his mouth, before helping him get undressed. 

When only the pants remained, he hesitated. He had seen Nick naked before, in the changing rooms at school, when they were younger, but not in a few years. These weren’t the circumstances under which he had imagined seeing his boyfriend naked for the first time, and he wondered if maybe he should leave the room, give Nick some privacy. But before he could voice his concern, Nick had already unabashedly removed the garment himself, and was climbing into the bathtub.

Dave felt like he ought to look away, but he couldn’t seem to manage to. He found himself staring at Nick’s body. His skinny hips never the less made way for a rounded and very nice looking bottom, but as he stared, mental images of Nick on the bed with Craig on top of him flashed through Dave’s head and he looked away, his eyes tearing up in anger, his hands balled into fists.

Nick sat down in the tub, a visible shudder rattling his body as he made contact with the hot water. Dave stood in the middle of the bathroom, unsure of what to do next, but Nick made that decision for him.

Looking up at him, Nick gave a sort of sad half smile. ‘Get in with me?’ he asked, and how could Dave say no to that?

He took off his clothes while Nick watched him tentatively. Nick moved forwards in the tub so Dave could fit behind him. As he got in and sat down, Nick shuddered again, and Dave thought that he must be remembering.

He sat so his legs were on either side of Nick’s hips, and Nick leaned back against his chest. Being in this position would have been a turn-on, but under the circumstances Dave didn’t feel anything like that. All he felt was sadness and anger. Tears were pouring from Nick’s eyes again, but his sobs were silent, and Dave kissed the back of his head and smoothed his fringe with his fingers.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Nick after a long moment of silence.

‘Sorry? About what?’ said Dave incredulously. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for!’

‘I am anyway. For dumping all this on you. Thank you for… for helping me…’

‘You really needn’t thank me,’ said Dave. ‘What else was I to do, turn you away?’

‘You could’ve done…’

‘No, I couldn’t, Nick.’ Dave sighed and shook his head. ‘When are you going to get it through your thick skull that you’re actually important to me? I _want_ to do this. I couldn’t _not_ help you, it would be like…’ He thought for a moment, trying to come up with an appropriate analogy. ‘Like not running away from a tiger or not coming up for air when you’re drowning. No, it’s like a soldier not fighting back if someone’s trying to kill his mates. It isn’t a matter of choice, it’s just what you have to do.’

Nick squeezed his hand, almost painfully. Then he turned sideways a little bit and looked at him. Not breaking eye contact, he put his hand to Dave’s chest, and traced a line down into the water. As the hand reached his hip bone, Dave threw his head back involuntarily and gasped. It was impossible not to react to that kind of stimuli, and God, how he would have wanted Nick to go on… But he grabbed Nick’s wrist and pulled his hand out of the water. 

‘No,’ he said firmly but gently. ‘No way, not while you’re in this state. I won’t have you thinking you need to thank me, and I won’t have you equating _that_ with what’s happened to you today.’ He brought Nick’s hand to his lips and kissed his finger tips, one by one. ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he said between kisses, ‘I want… I mean, I really do, but not like this.’ He pulled Nick close again. ‘There’ll be time for all that later.’

* * *

Nick nervously punched his sister’s number into his mobile. She picked up after three rings.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi,’ said Nick. ‘I just wanted to let you know, I’ll be staying with Dave while you’re in London. I… I forgot to tell Craig before I left, so…’ He clenched his fist as he said the name. He couldn’t tell her over the phone what was going on. 

‘That should be okay… Dave’s parents out of town, then?’

‘Yeah, but we’re not alone, his cousin is here. He’s about your age.’

‘All right… Everything okay?’

‘Yeah,’ said Nick. ‘Fine. Just… Come here and pick me up on the way home, okay? There’s something I need to talk to you about.’

‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing important. Just pick me up before you go home, yeah?’

Zoë laughed. ‘All right, silly. Could you put Dave’s cousin on, please?’

Nick did. They talked for a couple of minutes, and Jason jotted down her number before handing the phone back to Nick.

‘Right, well he seems nice,’ said Zoë. ‘I’ll see you in a few days. Take care, sweet!’

‘Thank you,’ said Nick. ‘Love you.’

‘Love you too!’


	15. Come Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Stuck between the do or die, I feel emaciated. Hard to breathe I try and try, I'll get asphyxiated. Swinging from the tallest height, with nothing left to hold on to. Every sky is blue, but not for me and you._  
>  \--'Come Home', by Placebo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains sexyness.

The following days consisted mostly of hanging out in Dave’s bedroom or—when they were feeling adventurous—the garden, playing video games, and playing board games with Jason who, as it turned out, was a huge board game nut and had them playing everything from Risk to obscure fantasy board games Nick had never even heard of. It all helped him take his mind off Craig. He was pleased with that. He put it to the back of his mind, and they hadn’t spoken of it since the first evening. At night he would wake up sweating and sobbing, however, and Dave would hold him until he stopped shaking and fell asleep again.

On Easter morning, Dave woke him up with a giant easter egg. They spent most of the morning and part of the afternoon in bed, munching chocolate bunnies and cream eggs and drinking tea. Dave made regular kitchen runs and brought up toast and scones and more sweets. By five in the afternoon, they were very full and happy and still not dressed. Nick wore pants and a large t-shirt. Dave was in cotton pyjama bottoms and little else.

‘We should probably put some clothes on,’ Dave remarked, looking at his watch on the bedside table. ‘I expect Jason would at least like to see us for dinner.’

‘Dinner?’ Nick laughed. ‘God, I can’t eat another bite of anything, I’m so stuffed!’

‘You sure?’ Dave smiled slyly and took a piece of chocolate in his mouth. He advanced on Nick and pressed their lips together in a delicious chocolatey kiss. Nick laughed.

‘I wish it was Easter every day!’ he sighed.

‘Just imagine how fat we’d be,’ Dave replied.

‘Mm, yeah, but happy.’

They both pulled on jeans, but before Dave could get a t-shirt over his head, Nick pounced on him and pushed him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips. 

‘Haha, gotcha!’ he said, grinning.

‘Wanna bet?’ Dave retorted, and they wrestled for a little bit. Dave was winning, but then Nick caught hold of his earlobe with his teeth, and he lost his resolve and stayed down. He moaned softly as Nick captured his mouth in a deep kiss.

There was a loud crashing sound, and they broke apart to find the door had been thrown open, and in the doorway stood Dave’s father, his face bright red and his blue eyes wide and furious.

‘What the devil is going on here?’ he growled, advancing on them. ‘Get off my son, you bloody poof!’ He grabbed Nick by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him off Dave, flinging him to the floor with surprising strength. Nick hit the floor shoulder first and cried out in pain.

Dave’s reaction was instantaneous. ‘Don’t you touch him!’ he shouted. He swung a fist at his father, knocking him to the floor. He was out cold.

Then he was there, helping Nick to his feet. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked urgently. ‘Did he hurt you?’

‘Just bruised,’ Nick replied, getting slowly to his feet. ‘I think I’m okay.’

‘Good, get your jumper,’ said Dave, pulling on a t-shirt. ‘We have to get out of here right now, before he wakes up.’

Nick pulled a jumper over his head and got his mobile off the bedside table. Then they hurried down the stairs into the hall. 

‘I don’t know what he’s doing home,’ said Dave. ‘They weren’t meant to be home until Tuesday.’

In the hall they found Jason and Dave’s mother.

‘Where’s your father, David?’ his mother asked.

‘Taking a nap,’ said Dave. Her eyes widened, and she hurried up the stairs.

‘I’m borrowing these,’ Dave told Jason, taking a set of keys from an end table.

‘And where are you going with those?’ asked Jason.

‘Away,’ Dave said. ‘Nick, get your shoes on, and grab your jacket, or you’ll get cold.’ He grabbed the two motorcycle helmets from the top of the wardrobe, took Nick’s hand and opened the door. Nick took the black leather jacket that had long been his now from a hook by the door.

‘Not on my bike, you’re not!’ said Jason. ‘You’re not even old enough to have a license!’ But he wasn’t wearing his boots, and before he could get them on, Dave had dragged Nick to the driveway where Jason’s red Triumph stood. 

He handed Nick one of the helmets and put the other one on himself. Then he sat on the bike and told Nick to get on behind him. ‘Just hold onto me, and lean the way I lean,’ he instructed, and before Nick could blink they had set off. He heard Jason shouting something, but he didn’t know what. He held Dave tightly around the waist. He only now noticed how his heart was pounding in his chest, and he realised that they were on a motorbike, that Dave didn’t have a license, and that they had no idea where they were going, but somehow, even though he should be terrified, he wasn’t. He trusted Dave. 

After what might have been anywhere between twenty minutes and three hours, they pulled up outside a bed & breakfast.

‘Where are we?’ Nick asked. 

‘Not sure,’ said Dave. ‘Along the M5 somewhere.’

‘How did you even know how to do that?’

Dave shrugged. ‘Jason taught me last summer. Bet he wishes he hadn’t, now…’

They headed inside.

* * *

Dave unlocked the door to their room. It was tiny, with a single bed and peeling wallpaper, but it was cozy enough. It would do. They had had to argue with the receptionist for a while to let them share a single room. Ten quid had helped her give in. 

Dave threw the key down on a small table next to the door, and put the bike helmet next to it. Nick entered behind him. In his hands he held a few bags of crisps and two cans of coke from the machine in reception. They closed the door and locked it.

‘What happens now, then?’ asked Nick, quietly, setting down their make-shift dinner on the table next to the key. 

‘I don’t know,’ said Dave, earnestly. ‘We can worry about tomorrow tomorrow.’

They both took off their shoes and jackets. Then they turned to look at each other. Nick’s weary expression probably mirrored Dave’s own. Dave felt tired, defeated, vulnerable. His father knew. He hadn’t thought he cared what his father thought anymore. He’d been wrong. The angry, disappointed look on George Thompson’s face had hurt him more than he could ever have believed.

As though he could read Dave’s mind (and, thought Dave, he probably could at this point), Nick put his arms around him, pulling him close. Then they looked at each other again, and their lips met. Dave couldn’t help the urgency with which he kissed Nick. He wanted to be as close as humanly possible. Needed it. Soon, he took complete control of the kiss and the embrace, and was slowly steering Nick through the room towards the bed. Nick pulled off his jumper as they went. When they made contact with the mattress and could go no further, Dave lowered Nick onto it.

Dave climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, looking down into his face. He grabbed Nick’s hands and held them up above his head. Then he leaned down and kissed him again, even harder and fiercer than before, biting at his lower lip. His lips moved from his mouth down to his neck, his tongue flicking out to caress his earlobe. Then he removed Nick’s t-shirt. One hand moved down to play with his nipples. Nick arched his back and moaned aloud, his eyes closed. Dave stayed his ministrations briefly so he could take off his own shirt. Then he got to work on Nick’s zipper.

He hesitated for a moment, and he looked into Nick’s eyes. ‘Are you okay with this?’ he asked. ‘I don’t want to push you, if it’s too soon after… well.’ He looked away. 

Nick took Dave’s hand and guided it down to the lining of his jeans, and Dave looked at him again. 

‘If I start this, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop,’ he warned. 

‘I know,’ said Nick softly. ‘It’s okay. I don’t want you to stop.’ He smiled weakly.

Dave swallowed audibly and finished the job of removing Nick’s trousers. Nick didn’t break eye contact with him. Soon, only Nick’s pants remained. Dave hesitated again, so Nick shifted a little under him and removed his pants himself. 

Dave broke eye contact and his gaze moved downwards. Drawing a ragged breath, he began to stroke Nick, gently at first, then faster and with more conviction. 

‘Is… Is this okay?’ he asked, his voice a little shaky.

Nick nodded, not saying anything, biting his lip. 

Dave felt very shaky when he said, ‘I want… I’d like to try something.’ Then he lowered his head, and Nick threw his head back with a gasp and a muttered profanity. He tasted salty and sweet and slightly bitter all at once. Dave thought his technique was probably horrendous. He had only ever been on the receiving end of blow-jobs, and only a few times. But Nick seemed pleased with him, tangling his elegant fingers into Dave’s blonde hair and making small noises.

‘No, wait, not yet!’ Nick gasped suddenly, and Dave slowed down, taking his mouth off Nick and stroking him slowly with deft fingers instead. He gave Nick a questioning look, licking his lips nervously. 

Nick caressed Dave’s torso with both hands, before undoing the zipper of his jeans. With a little help from Dave, he removed them along with his pants. Now they were both naked, Dave straddling his middle. Nick’s breath came fast and shallow as he stared at Dave’s rapidly filling sex. 

* * *

Nick felt like he ought to have been nervous, being in this position for the first time. It ought to have felt awkward and strange. As a victim of sexual violence, wasn’t this supposed to bring back all the bad memories or give him a panic attack? It didn’t. It just felt natural and right. Cupping Dave’s arse, Nick pulled his hips towards him, and took him into his mouth. Dave’s body shuddered and he moaned loudly.

‘Oh, fuck, Nick, that’s…’ Dave groaned, words seeming to escape him.

Nick pushed one finger in between Dave’s cheeks. Dave cried out. He was holding himself up with one hand on the headboard. The other was in Nick’s hair, grabbing and pulling at it, just hard enough to be painful and arousing at the same time. 

When Dave seemed close, Nick withdrew his mouth and his finger and pulled Dave down next to him. Dave was positively quivering with need. Nick stared into Dave’s eyes and then kissed him, deeply and slowly, letting Dave taste himself on Nick’s lips. It appeared to have the desired effect. He reached down and took both of them in his hand. One of Dave’s hands came down to join him.

They worked up a rhythm, thrusting against one another. Their lips were locked together, their legs entwined, and they both moaned and panted into the kiss. Nick held off as best he could until he could feel the unmistakable twitch of Dave’s cock against his hand and they both came at once.

They lay there panting for several minutes, neither of them moving. Then Dave got up, slowly. He went to the bathroom to fetch some toilet paper and they cleaned themselves up a bit. Then they crawled under the moth-eaten duvet and lay there gazing at each other, utterly naked, and exhausted, and happy.

Nick traced Dave’s jawline with his finger, and Dave closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

‘Dave?’ said Nick.

‘Mhm?’ replied Dave, sleepily.

‘I love you.’

Dave reached up and grabbed the hand caressing his face. He kissed Nick’s palm and looked into his eyes again. ‘I love you too,’ he said.

After that, they both fell asleep, though Nick woke again twice that night. 

The first time, it was to Dave kissing his neck softly. Nick released a drowsy moan and draped his leg languidly over Dave’s hips. Then he kissed him, slowly and sensually, letting his hands roam over his body again, until they were both panting and rutting against one another, soon bringing each other to a sleepy climax before drifting off again. 

The second time was less pleasant, Nick waking with a jolt, sweating and sobbing, from dreams of large, calloused hands holding him down and the weight of a hard and heavy body on top of him. His sobs roused Dave almost immediately, and his lover held him in his arms, stroking his hair and kissing him softly until he calmed.

‘In Greek mythology, there’s this thing called nemesis,’ Nick mumbled when he could breathe normally again.

‘Like, enemy?’ Dave asked, lightly stroking Nick’s upper arm.

‘No, that’s a modern misunderstanding of the word,’ said Nick. ‘Nemesis was a goddess or spirit. Her name actually means “to give what’s due”. Nemesis was a sort of personified divine retribution, a punishment for hubris. Do you know what hubris means?’

‘Yeah, it’s like arrogance, right?’

‘Yeah, arrogance before the gods. Although actually, originally, it sort of meant sexual assault or victim shaming…’

‘All right, Nickypedia,’ Dave teased. He curled his body around Nick’s, pulling him closer. ‘This little philosophy debate going anywhere?’ he asked through a demonstrative yawn.

Nick shrugged. ‘I dunno… I guess, nemesis is kind of like karma. It’s about getting what’s coming to you. So if you’ve got it too good, if you’re too comfortable and you start taking life for granted, bad shit happens. Maybe that’s what’s happening to me, with my mum and Craig and everything… I was too happy, I had it too good.’

‘Hm,’ said Dave, sounding unconvinced. ‘Or maybe bad shit just happens sometimes. Maybe your nemesis is that things are going to get better now. Maybe _that’s_ what you’ve got coming to you.’

Nick smiled a crooked smile, turning his eyes to Dave’s. He reached out and smoothed back Dave’s hair, and Dave closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the touch. When he opened them again, they had that determined look, the one that said, _‘I can do anything.’_

‘I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you get your due,’ he murmured. ‘To make sure you get to be happy.’

‘You already make me happy,’ said Nick, smiling.

‘Good, that’s a start,’ said Dave. ‘You deserve to be happy. Now, go back to sleep.’

Nick closed his eyes obediently. He was almost asleep when Dave’s voice roused him once more.

‘Or, maybe it’s _my_ nemesis,’ Dave was muttering sleepily. ‘Maybe _you’re_ my nemesis. I spent all this time acting an arrogant sod and being horrible to you… Only to go and fall in love with you first chance I got. It would have been a cruel punishment…’ He yawned. ‘Except you were in love with me, too. I don’t think the gods thought this one through…’ Then he seemed to drift off.

Nick smiled and shook his head. He listened to Dave’s steady breathing for a while and soon fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

* * *

The following morning, Nick picked up his phone to find that it had been switched off all night. Turning it back on, he discovered some twenty-odd missed calls from his sister. He sighed and shook Dave awake. Dave grunted, and opened his eyes reluctantly. Nick showed him his mobile.

‘I guess you had better ring her,’ said Dave.

Nick did. This time, it barely rang once.

‘Nick?’ Zoë’s voice sounded panicked. ‘Where are you? What’s going on? Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine,’ Nick assured her. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and yawned. ‘We’re both fine.’

‘Yes, but where are you?’

‘We’re at a B&B along the M5. We’re safe.’

‘We’re coming to pick you up.’

Nick’s heart sank. We? Could she mean her and Craig? ‘Who’s we?’ he asked, slowly.

‘Jason and I,’ Zoë replied. ‘He rang me when you ran off, I headed straight back. We’ve been up all night. God, we thought you must have crashed and died when we couldn’t get hold of you… I’m at the Thompsons’. We’ll come and get you, just give me the address.’

Nick breathed a sigh of relief and gave it to her. Then they bid each other goodbye.

Nick turned to Dave. ‘Zoë’s coming to get us, with Jason,’ he said. He took Dave’s hand, tracing circles in his palm with his index finger. ‘What are you going to do?’

Dave sighed. ‘I guess I’m going home to face the music,’ he said. ‘I can’t run away forever…’ He pulled Nick against him, and Nick breathed in the scent of sweat and sex and, underneath it all, _Dave_ , closing his eyes for a moment. Then he looked up at him.

‘They probably won’t get here for another hour at least,’ said Nick, trying for a wicked smile. ‘Wanna grab a shower?’

Dave cocked an eyebrow at him. Then he grinned. ‘Yeah, all right.’

He followed Nick into the bathroom and, for a little while, they both allowed themselves to forget to worry about what was to come.

* * *

The drive back was very quiet. Nick and Dave sat in the backseat holding hands. Nick supposed Zoë had been filled in on everything anyway, so there was no point in hiding it. He saw her glance at them in the rearview mirror occasionally. 

Jason was riding his motorbike next to them or, occasionally, behind or in front of them. It was a bit like having a police escort, if police rode red motorcycles and wore black and red leather jackets.

They pulled up in front of Dave’s house and Jason went to park his bike. The front door opened and Dave’s mother appeared. Dave’s grip on Nick’s hand tightened a little.

‘I don’t want to go back,’ he whispered.

‘It’ll be okay,’ said Nick. ‘I mean, what can they actually do to you, other than ground you?’

‘You don’t know my dad…’ Dave sighed. He glanced uncomfortably at the back of Zoë’s head.

Nick smiled, leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. Dave turned his head around and kissed him lightly on the lips. Then he unfastened his seatbelt and got out of the car. Nick did the same, and waved glumly to Dave before getting into the passenger seat. Zoë waved to Jason, and they drove off.

‘So,’ said Zoë. ‘You _are_ gay.’

Nick nodded.

‘And you ran away because Dave’s parents got home early.’

‘Yes,’ said Nick. 

‘That was very irresponsible of you,’ said Zoë, but she was smiling. ‘Was that what you wanted to talk to me about? You and Dave?’

‘That, too…’ Nick took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how to broach the next subject. ‘Could you… could you pull over, please?’ he asked. Zoë did.

‘Right, then. What else?’ she said, turning towards him. Her smile quickly dissipated upon seeing the look on his face. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

‘It’s… It’s about Craig,’ said Nick, and before he knew it he was crying. ‘He… he’s done things…’ And then he was telling her everything, between ragged sobs, about what had happened when they had been alone in October, the fight, about Dave taking care of him in the park and how he had been the only one who knew the whole time. About the phone call with Dave a week ago, and how Craig had overheard… And the beating. And the rape.

When he got to that part, Zoë was sobbing too, and had grabbed hold of him and was hugging him tightly.

‘You’re so stupid! Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so, so sorry…’ she whispered. ‘This is all my fault!’

‘It’s not,’ Nick replied. ‘You didn’t know…’

‘No, but I should’ve done. I’m meant to be looking after you! I’m so sorry…’

Then she got out her mobile and called the police.


	16. Thirty-Six Degrees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _We were tight, but it falls apart as silver turns to blue. Waxing with the candlelight, and burning just for you. Allocate your sentiment, and stick it in a box. I've never been an extrovert, but i'm still breathing._  
>  \--'36 Degrees' by Placebo

The walk up to the front door seemed to take forever. Dave’s mother stared down at him from the top of the steps, her expression unreadable. He was at least glad that he had Jason with him.

His mother led him into the kitchen, where he found his father seated at the table, holding an ice pack to his head. His expression was stony, but he seemed acutely aware that Jason was in the room. Dave’s father had always been intimidating enough on his own that he had never needed to get physical, but if there had ever been a time when Dave thought he might resort to violence, it was now. His son had knocked him out, after all.

‘Well, look who’s back,’ he said, icily.

‘Sir, just—’ Dave began, but his father interrupted him.

‘Sit down and shut up!’ he shouted. Dave did as he was asked. The vein in his father’s forehead was throbbing. ‘I don’t care what you think you were doing in that bedroom with the Davis boy, but this ends right now!’

‘Oh yeah? Well you can’t stop me!’ Dave shouted back, banging his fist on the table.

‘Can’t I?’ his father replied, quietly. ‘If you think I’m going to let people think I have a shirt-lifter for a son, you’ve got another thing coming! You are grounded for the rest of the school year!’ He held out his hand. ‘Give me your mobile.’

‘I haven’t got it. I left it in my room yesterday.’

‘Jason, go get David’s mobile, please.’ George Thompson looked his son up and down as his nephew left the room. Dave stared back. Then he turned his gaze on his mother, who was standing by the window.

‘You’re being awfully quiet, _mum_ ,’ he said contemptuously. ‘How do you feel about all this?’

She fixed him with an icy blue stare. ‘I’m behind your father in this,’ she said. ‘I don’t want people thinking my son is queer.’

Dave laughed. ‘Right, so now that I’m a disappointment you suddenly take an interest. You never even acknowledge my existence unless there’s something I can do for you!’

If he hadn’t known better, Dave might have said she looked hurt. ‘I have always given you nothing but the best!’ she said.

‘Yeah, fancy designer clothes, so I wouldn’t be an embarrassment!’ Dave shot back. ‘What are you two doing home, anyway?’ he asked sullenly, staring resolutely down at his hands.

‘I had to schedule an urgent meeting with a client for tomorrow,’ his father said coldly. ‘I needed to prepare. Now I’m not sure if I’ll be able to attend at all, thanks to you.’

Dave licked his lips, refusing to look at his father but still, somehow, feeling slightly guilty.

He heard Jason’s footsteps coming back down the stairs, and soon he came back inside the kitchen.

‘Wow. You could cut this tension with a knife,’ he said, smiling uncertainly.

‘Just give me the phone, boy,’ said Dave’s father, stretching out his hand. Jason made an apologetic face at Dave and gave his father the mobile.

George Thompson fiddled with it for a minute, then handed it back to Dave. _Message sent_ , it said on the screen.

‘What did you do?’ asked Dave. He received no reply, so he went into his sent messages. There were three new ones, one to Nick, one to Alan and one to Chas. The ones to Alan and Chas read the same.

_Nick Davis came onto me, the little bender! Tell everyone._

The one to Nick read, _I never want to see you again._

Dave stared at his phone, and felt tears well up in his eyes. Any guilt he might have felt about hitting his father evaporated. ‘How could you…?’ he whispered. His father snatched the phone back and switched it off. 

‘You are only to have your mobile phone when you leave the house, and you are only to leave the house for school and football. When you are at home, you are confined to your bedroom save for meal times. If you behave, I might allow a couple of your friends to visit you. You are never to speak to Nick Davis again, unless it is to ridicule him. You are never to go to his house and he is never to come here. If you possibly can, you are to get a new girlfriend, so long as it doesn’t get in the way of your studies.’ His father waved his hand. ‘That’s all. Go to your room.’

Dave turned around and left the kitchen. Jason followed him up the stairs.

‘So…’ he said. ‘You and Nick were…’

‘Yeah.’

‘The whole time?’

‘Yup.’

They stopped outside Dave’s bedroom, and Jason put a hand on his shoulder. 

‘I’m really sorry, mate,’ he said. ‘I had no idea. If I had, I wouldn’t have told Uncle George he was here, I could have warned you…’

‘It’s not your fault,’ said Dave, smiling weakly. ‘We might have told you, only…’

‘Only you didn’t know how I’d take it.’ Jason nodded. ‘I understand.’ He lowered his eyes and sighed. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m fine with it. My flatmate James is gay, you know.’

‘Really?’ said Dave, blinking. ‘That’s… cool.’

‘Yeah, he’s all right.’ Jason looked up at Dave and smiled. ‘Your Nick seems like a nice kid, too. I hope you can find some way to work it out. And his sister was really nice. We got to talking while she was here… If you like, I can ring her later and explain what’s happened here.’

‘You’d do that?’ Dave asked, taken aback. ‘God, I wish you were my brother… I could use an ally around here.’ He smiled, opening his bedroom door. Jason grabbed him by the wrist to stop him from going in.

‘You do understand that if you ever pull something like that with my bike again I will kill you very slowly and very painfully?’ he said. His expression was serious, but there was a glint of something in his eye.

Dave nodded solemnly. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good,’ said Jason with a curt nod. ‘Now, as for Zoë… She single?’

Dave laughed in spite of himself. ‘I think she’s about to be.’

* * *

They parked the car a ways up the street. Minutes later, the police showed up outside their front door. Zoë gave his hand a squeeze and got out of the car, heading towards the house. She unlocked the door and the police went inside.

Nick’s mobile buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out. He had a text from Dave.

_I never want to see you again._

Nick blinked. Then his eyes welled up with tears again. He stared at the text, unable or unwilling to believe what he was reading. Dave wouldn’t do this to him, surely? Not after everything they’d been through. 

He tried to call him, but his phone had been switched off. This couldn’t happen, not now… Dave was all he had.

The front door opened again and two police officers appeared. Craig was not with them. One made a phone call while the other spoke to Zoë and took some notes. He seemed to ask her a question and she nodded. 

Zoë returned to the car and got in. ‘He’s not there,’ she said softly. ‘He sounded so strange when we spoke on the phone last night… They’re going to see if he’s at his dad’s house. We have to go down to the police station and give a statement.’ She looked at Nick with a pained expression. ‘And they’ll want to examine you, so they can see your bruises and everything… Are you okay with that?’

Nick didn’t answer.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ she asked. He showed her the text, and she hugged him. ‘It’ll be okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll ring Jason later and find out what happened, all right? Now, are you okay with going down to the station?’

‘Will it put Craig away?’ Nick asked, wiping his tears from his cheeks.

‘I think it’s our best shot, yes,’ Zoë replied.

Nick nodded. ‘Okay.’

* * *

Nick lay curled up on his bed. It was only eight o’clock in the evening, but he couldn’t really think of anything else to do. Forensics had taken his old bedding and Zoë had put on new, clean sheets, but the bed still brought back bad memories. He tried to ignore them.

His interview down at the station had been very painful. They had made him recount exactly what had happened. He had had to take three breaks because he couldn’t breathe. Then they had taken him to a medical examiner who had checked out his bruises, confirmed the date that they had been delivered, and then performed a painful and humiliating rectal examination in a futile attempt to confirm sexual assault. Nick had cried silently the whole time, and Zoë had held his hand, and afterwards he had been sick.

The police had told them that they’d found Craig at his father’s house. He had been unwashed and drunk, but had come quietly.

After the whole ordeal was over and they had got back home, Zoë had rung Jason, who had apparently tried to ring her while they were at the police station. She asked him about the text, and he told her that Dave’s dad had sent it before taking away his mobile. 

‘I would like to beat that bastard _George Thompson_ to a pulp, I really would!’ Zoë had said to Nick after. ‘What a despicable and awful thing to do!’

Jason had also told her that Nick could expect some trouble when he got back to school, as Dave’s father had also spread around that Nick was gay, and that he had tried to come onto Dave and been refused.

But Dave’s parents had not, it seemed, disconnected Dave’s Internet, and Nick had found an e-mail in his inbox from him.

 

_Dear Nick,_

_I’m so sorry about the text. My dad sent it. And he’s spread a rumour that you’re gay, but I’m sure Jason’s told your sister all about that, he said he’d ring her._

_My dad’s grounded me, and won’t let me use my phone when I’m at home. It’s only a matter of time before he thinks to block my Internet, too. I’ll text you when we’re back at school, though, any chance I get. He wants to stop us from seeing each other and communicating, but I won’t let him._

_You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I have no intention of letting you go. You’re amazing, and I love you._

_Xx Dave_

 

While he was online, Nick had spoken to Mel briefly on Messenger and filled her in on what had happened. She had immediately offered to help pass messages between them, promising to ring the Thompsons the following day and talk to Dave.

When it was time for bed, Nick tried at first to sleep in his own room, but the memories of what had happened there were far too fresh and painful, and in the end he took his pillow with him to Zoë’s room. Rattled by what Craig had done, she had moved from the master bedroom she had shared with him, to what had been her bedroom before she’d gone off to uni. Nick climbed into bed with her, like he used to do when he was little and woke from a nightmare. Zoë welcomed him just as she had back then, and Nick finally fell into exhausted, dreamless sleep.

* * *

The week that followed was one of the most miserable weeks of Dave’s life, and he suspected Nick’s wasn’t much better. He managed to send a few e-mails before his father thought to revoke his Internet access, but other than that he had no direct contact with his boyfriend, and it tore him apart that he couldn’t be there for Nick when Nick needed him most. Mel was immensely helpful in delivering messages back and forth between the two of them, but Dave wasn’t allowed much telephone time with her, family or not.

The first thing he did when he was allowed his mobile back the following Monday was text Nick and arrange to meet in the changing rooms at lunch. 

When he arrived at school, Dave was greeted by Alan and Chas at the entrance to the school, as usual.

‘He’s really done it now, hasn’t he?’ said Alan gleefully. ‘I mean, we always knew he was a poof, but now we _know_ , you know?’

Dave looked away. ‘Something like that,’ he mumbled. Alan took no notice.

’So, he’s out of the closet then, innit?’ said Chas. He frowned. ‘That must really suck for him…’

‘He _wishes_ someone would suck him!’ said Alan and laughed. 

Matt came sauntering through the gates to the school yard, and Alan hailed him. ‘Oi, Matt, did you hear?’

‘What?’ asked Matt.

‘Nick Davis is a big fat queer!’

Matt raised an eyebrow. ‘So?’

‘He came onto Dave and Dave turned him down. Make sure everyone knows, yeah?’

‘Why would I do that?’ asked Matt. ‘I’ll leave this one to you guys.’

‘What? Why?’ asked Alan, incredulously. ‘Didn’t you hear? He’s a confirmed fucking batty boy! We need to teach him some manners!’

‘I honestly don’t care,’ said Matt. ‘His sexual orientation is his business. Just sucks for him that he picked Dave, he was setting himself up for disappointment. I could have told him that.’

Dave looked up and found Matt’s brown eyes boring into him. ‘Telling everyone was a really shitty thing to do, you know,’ Matt told him. ‘Thought you were better than that. Guess I was wrong.’ Then he turned to walk away, leaving Dave to feel lower than he ever had before. He prayed that his morning lessons would go by quickly.

* * *

Nick felt everyone’s eyes on him that day. News apparently traveled fast. More than once, he heard people whisper ‘queer’, ‘gay’, ‘bender’ as he passed them in the corridors. Linda Langmann made a particularly big deal out of it, telling anyone who would listen about their ‘relationship’. (‘I mean, eurgh, I can’t believe I kissed that guy! How gross!’)

Lunchtime couldn’t come fast enough, and when it did, Nick hurried towards the boys’ changing rooms as quickly as his legs would carry him.

The room was empty when he got there. He closed his eyes and sighed, hoping that Dave would get there soon. Then he heard a voice from behind him.

‘So now it’s official, isn’t it, Gay-boy?’

Nick spun round to see Alan standing there. ‘Oh, what the fuck do you want now, Bradford? Did you follow me?’

Alan said nothing. He just stood there, smirking.

‘Yes, it’s all out now,’ Nick continued. ‘My big secret! I’m a big, fat, stinking bender! What are you going to do about it? You come to put a stop to my incessant buggery? Someone already tried that, it didn’t do any good!’

‘Barked up the wrong tree, though, didn’t you?’ Alan said, finally. ‘You thought Straight Boy Dave would be up for it, did you? You must have been so disappointed! How long have you lusted after him, I wonder?’

‘Well, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?’ Nick spat. ‘You may think everyone believes your little charade, but you’re not fooling me… Must have been torture, following him around for years, knowing he didn’t want you, knowing he’d never want you! That’s what happens to sad little closet cases, though. I feel sorry for you, Alan. You’re pathetic!’

Alan growled and charged forward, pushing Nick up against the wall.

‘Go ahead!’ Nick said through gritted teeth. ‘Hit me!’

‘You think it’s _Dave_ I want?’ Alan whispered. Then he crashed his lips into Nick’s, forcing his tongue inside his mouth. Nick stood rooted to the spot as Alan pushed a hand in under the hem of his shirt, groaning into the kiss, his tongue fiercely moving about inside Nick’s mouth, seeking a response.

‘What the _fuck_?’

Alan let go so quickly it was as though he’d never touched Nick, and Nick stood speechless, his tie crooked, shirt rumpled and his lips bright red.

Dave stood in the doorway, staring in disbelief. Alan was wide-eyed and looking anywhere but at his alleged best friend. There was a moment of silence, before Nick found his voice.

‘You think just cause I’m gay I haven’t got standards?’ he said at last, glaring at Alan. ‘What… what gives you the right?’

Dave rushed to his side, then, and took his hand. ‘Nick, are you all right?’ he said quietly. ‘Did he hurt you? Did he force you—‘

‘No, I’m okay,’ said Nick. ‘He didn’t hurt me.’

It was Alan’s turn to look on in astonishment now.

‘What—’ he began. Swallowed. Looked away. Tried again. ‘Dave, what’s going on?’

‘Why don’t you tell me?’ Dave growled, putting a protective arm around Nick. ‘What happened to straight, homophobic Alan Bradford? What the hell is he doing snogging my boyfriend?’

‘B– _boyfriend?_ ’ Alan exclaimed incredulously.

Nick burst out laughing, and they both stared at him.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just… You should see your faces right now!’

Dave grinned too, at that.

‘But… but you sent that text!’ said Alan. ‘You said—’

‘I didn’t write that text, my dad did,’ said Dave. ‘He caught us, see. Didn’t want everyone to think he had a queer son.’

Alan looked at both of them in turn, his mouth opening and closing, and then he cast his eyes down in defeat.

Nick felt sorry for him, then. ‘I had it all wrong,’ he said. ‘I thought you liked Dave… And all along it was me.’

Alan didn’t answer. He just worked his jaw, his eyes shifting to look at everything but Nick and Dave.

‘I’m sorry,’ Nick tried. ‘But maybe this is a good thing? Now we all know each other’s secrets. We can all be friends.’

Alan looked up sharply. ‘In your pathetic dreams, you poof!’ And he stormed out.

‘I don’t think you’ve made a friend,’ said Dave, squeezing Nick’s hand.

‘No,’ Nick agreed. ‘Maybe some day.’ He turned to look at his boyfriend, and relief washed over him. He hugged him close. ‘I love you so much…’ he whispered.

‘I love you too,’ Dave answered and kissed the top of his head. ‘I’m sorry everything’s such a mess… I don’t know what to do.’

‘I guess there’s nothing _to_ do, for now. We’ll just have to live with it.’

‘I feel like such a wanker,’ said Dave. ‘You know, I think Matt is really angry with me, because he thinks I spread all this around… He’s not at all the sort of person I thought he was. He said telling everyone was a horrid thing to do. He said it to my face, in front of Alan and Chas. He’s really brave.’ He sighed. ‘You’re really brave, too. And I’m such a coward.’

‘You’re not!’ said Nick firmly, and they broke apart. ‘You punched your dad in the face!’

‘But I can’t stand up to him now,’ Dave argued. ‘And after I promised you I’d make you happy—’

Nick put a finger to his lips to silence him. ‘We’ll figure something out,’ he said. ‘Let’s just be together now, okay?’ Then he kissed him. Dave kissed him back, like it was the last time, or the first. He crowded Nick against the wall. 

Nick put one arm around his waist, pulling his hips closer. The other went around Dave’s neck, his hand disappearing up into his hair. Dave kissed Nick’s neck and snaked a hand in under his shirt to caress the skin of his torso.

‘God, you’re beautiful,’ Nick breathed. ‘You’re a fucking dream!’

Dave began to fiddle with Nick’s belt and the fly of his trousers. Soon he had his hand down Nick’s pants, and Nick was moaning. His hands shook as he tried to open Dave’s fly, too, but he had to give up as Dave bit into his neck and found a nipple to squeeze through the fabric of his shirt. 

Nick shook with sensation, his whole body responding by feeling hot and cold at once, every hair standing on attention. He held onto Dave’s jumper for dear life. He felt like he would fall down any second, but Dave’s knee between his thighs held him up. Nick groaned with every stroke, his body quivering.

‘That’s it,’ said Dave. ‘Just give yourself over to it. Don’t hold back. I love you.’

Nick panted and mumbled incoherently. He cried out as he came.

Dave pulled away a couple of inches and licked some of Nick’s spending off his hand. Nick shivered at the sight and got to his knees, unzipping Dave’s jeans as he went. He took him into his mouth, and Dave moaned and had to steady himself against the wall with one hand. The other went into Nick’s hair. 

‘Oh, Nick,’ Dave groaned. ‘Oh, my God… Your mouth…’

When Dave came, Nick almost choked at first. But then he swallowed every drop. He couldn’t say it tasted _good_ , exactly, but it was a part of Dave. 

Dave sunk down to the floor before him, and their lips met. It only then occurred to Nick to worry about the fact that they were in the changing rooms at school, but the room was still dark and empty, and quiet, but for the steady breathing of the two boys.

‘We’ll be together whenever we can,’ said Nick, stroking Dave’s hair. ‘Whenever we can.’


	17. Every You Every Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sucker love is heaven sent. You pucker up, our passion's spent. My hearts a tart, your body's rent. My body's broken, yours is bent. Carve your name into my arm. Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed. Cause there's nothing else to do, every me and every you._  
>  \--'Every You Every Me' by Placebo

‘You fucking queen!’ Three boys had Nick cornered against a brick wall. ‘Think you can come here and walk around and just be gay, and no one will care?’

Nick glared at them defiantly. ‘I should be able to, yes,’ he said. ‘Now fuck off, let me go home.’

‘What, so you can mince off and keep being a bloody arse bandit?’ one of them said. 

Nick laughed. ‘Arse bandit? Who the hell says arse bandit anymore?’ He cocked his head. ‘What is it you’re afraid of?’ he asked. ‘Really, I’m dying to know. Do you think I’ll break into your houses at night and fuck you in the arse or something? Or maybe you want me to?’

He was expecting the punch, and closed his eyes before it hit him square in the jaw. The side of his head hit the wall, and blue and purple stars exploded on the inside of his eyelids. He sunk to the ground, a little dazed.

‘Oi, get off him, you twats!’ someone shouted. Nick opened his eyes. At first he thought it must have been Dave, but that wasn’t Dave’s voice. It was deeper and harder than his boyfriend’s dulcet tenor. He tried to see between the boys’ legs.

It was Matt.

‘What’s it to you, Taylor?’ asked the one who had delivered the punch.

‘Not much, _Steven_ ,’ said Matt. ‘But I do Jitsu twice a week, and I’ll kick your arses if you don’t leave him be.’

‘Whatever,’ said one of the others. ‘We’re done, anyway.’ They stalked off.

Matt pulled Nick to his feet. ‘You okay?’ he asked.

Nick shook his head. It didn’t feel like he had a concussion. ‘Yeah, I think so,’ he replied.

‘Here, I’ll walk you home,’ said Matt and offered his arm. Nick laughed.

‘Thanks,’ he said, and took it. ‘But aren’t you worried people will think you’re gay too?’ he asked.

Matt shook his head. ‘So what if they do? It doesn’t matter. I’m only staying here as long as I have to, anyway. If I get my way, I’m moving back to Brum for college. I can take a couple of months. Besides, I’m bisexual.’

Nick was taken aback by his honesty. ‘People aren’t generally so up front about their sexuality around here,’ he said. 

‘Don’t I know it,’ said Matt. ‘Backwards little shit town… I thought Dave was better than that, though.’

Nick smiled. ‘Yeah? How do you figure?’

‘He never told anyone that I snogged him. I never thought he’d sink so low as to tell everyone that he rejected you.’ Matt glanced at Nick. ‘I’m sorry you had to go through all that. Rejection sucks.’

Nick considered for a moment. Then he said, ‘Let me tell you something about Dave and me. It’s pretty funny. I think you’ll laugh.’

‘Really? Tell me,’ said Matt. Nick did, and Matt laughed.

* * *

‘It’s a beautiful day, Dave, my boy.’ Matt put an arm around Dave’s shoulders and smiled. Dave looked up in surprise.

‘Well, that’s a different tune from yesterday!’ he said. ‘What’s got you in such a good mood?’

‘I made a new friend,’ said Matt, smiling. ‘It’s a common acquaintance of ours.’

Dave picked up his tray and headed off towards a free table. Matt followed.

‘I still think you’re an arse, mind,’ he continued, ‘but I get it now. In my opinion, you should just stand up to your dad, though. Nick deserves better.’

Dave set down his tray and looked up in astonishment. ‘How do you—?’

Matt shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you have a heart.’ He sauntered off, leaving Dave to stare at his retreating back.

Well, this was certainly a development. Nick and Matt had seemed to get along well in the few short weeks Nick had hung out with them, but he had not expected this. Matt continued to surprise him. The tall, dark-haired Brummy obviously had hidden depths.

‘What was that about?’ asked Chas, sitting down opposite him.

‘Football,’ said Dave, shrugging, but he followed Matt with his eyes as he went to sit down with Nick.

Chas cocked an eyebrow at him and followed his gaze. ‘Unexpected development,’ he said. He’d dropped the gangster accent again. He’d been doing that a lot lately, when it was just the two of them.

‘What?’ asked Dave.

‘Matt siding with Nick,’ Chas clarified. ‘Didn’t think he was the sort to give a fuck.’

‘Yeah, me neither,’ said Dave.

‘Are you cross with him for it?’ asked Chas, looking at Dave again. 

Dave shrugged again. ‘Not really.’ He took a bite of his food. 

‘I’d have expected you to be gloating a lot more,’ Chas continued. ‘Over what Nick did. Coming onto you and all that. Having something to hold against him. But you don’t seem as thrilled as I thought you’d be.’

Dave shook his head. ‘I dunno, Chas,’ he sighed. ‘I think maybe spreading it around was just a huge mistake.’

Chas nodded thoughtfully. Then he looked over Dave’s shoulder. ‘Yo, Alan!’ he called and waved. Dave blinked, then turned to see Alan standing frozen and stone-faced, with a tray in his hands. Dave felt simultaneously angry and sorry for him. He glanced at Nick where he sat laughing with Matt.

‘You know, I’m not really hungry,’ he said to no one in particular and stood up. He dumped his tray on the way out and pulled his mobile out of his pocket to text Nick. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alan sit down in his empty seat, before he left the cafeteria.

* * *

Matt took a seat opposite Nick and grinned at him. Nick grinned back, a little shyly. 

‘Don’t get what you see in that guy,’ said Matt. Nick laughed.

‘Well, what did _you_ see in him?’

‘Touché.’

’Does anyone say that anymore?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe not.’ Matt glanced over at Dave. ‘He doesn’t deserve you, you know.’

Nick blushed.

‘Oi, Matt!’ came a shout from across the room. It was one of the boys from the football team, but his name escaped Nick. ‘Gone queer?’

‘Fuck off!’ Matt shouted back amiably, offering a two-finger salute. ‘So what if I am? Want me to give you one?’

The boy in question blushed to the tips of his ears and shrank back into the crowd. Nick laughed again. Some moments later his mobile buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Dave.

_5 minutes, behind the bike shed._

Nick smiled and stood. ’Sorry, Matt. Duty calls.’

‘What, you’re just going to leave me here by myself?’ Matt asked, pouting. ‘Fine, just go! Go on, leave me all alone!’ He lifted the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically and looked away.

Nick reached across the table and ruffled his hair. Matt made a face at him, but then he smiled. ‘Fine, then, go have a good long snog. But let’s hang out after school today, yeah?’

‘Can’t. Have to go see my shrink.’ Nick rolled his eyes. ‘Besides, don’t you have football?’

‘Oh, fuck me, yeah… Tomorrow, then.’

‘Sure.’ Nick smiled.

* * *

Nick found Dave already waiting behind the bike shed and greeted him with a kiss. ‘Hi,’ he whispered, hugging him. He breathed deep, filling his lungs with Dave’s scent.

‘Hi,’ said Dave. They separated and he studied Nick’s face with his head cocked to one side. ‘Why did you tell Matt?’ he asked finally.

Nick blinked, taken aback. ‘I… That’s why you wanted to see me?’

’No,’ said Dave, ‘I wanted to see you because I wanted to see _you_. I just… I was just wondering.’

‘Oh,’ said Nick, feeling a bit foolish. ‘He was nice to me yesterday. He rescued me, I guess. Someone was giving me a hard time on my way home from school and he stepped in. And he was really honest and up front with me about being bi, and he told me about how he tried to snog you, not knowing that I already knew, so I just told him. I thought it would be nice to have a friend.’

Now Dave looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m not used to you having friends… I’m sorry.’

‘It’s nice to be able to be myself around someone. And it’s nice to know that someone’s got my back. Matt’s a good bloke. I feel less alone when I can hang out with him.’

‘Don’t you feel less alone with me?’

‘Well, yeah, when we’re actually together…’ Nick looked down at his shoes. ‘But in case you hadn’t noticed, that’s not an awful lot these days.’ He tried to keep the accusing tone out of his voice; it wasn’t Dave’s fault, after all. He knew it wasn’t easy for Dave, that his father demanded much of him and that George Thompson was a difficult man to stand up to. He didn’t blame Dave for anything. He hadn’t taken the easy way out. In many ways, this was the rockier path, but he had done what he felt he had to do.

And yet, when he’d been talking to Matt in the cafeteria not ten minutes ago, and he had been open and honest and hadn’t cared what people said or thought… It had felt so good to not have to hide. To have someone who could be nice to him even when others were looking.

Dave must have noticed something in his voice, because he turned away and leaned against the shed, running a hand through his hair. Then, without warning, he turned around and kicked the chain link fence, hard, several times. Nick blinked. Then he rushed to his side and took him by the arm.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Calm down! Okay? Take it easy.’ 

Dave’s body tensed, and then he went limp. He slid down to the ground, his back against the shed. Then his body shuddered as a sob escaped his lips.

Nick sat down next to him and put his arms around him, pulling him close. ‘It’s okay,’ he whispered, not knowing what else he could say.

‘It’s not,’ said Dave. ‘I’m weak. I feel so powerless… I’m such a coward! I’m sorry…’

Nick felt conflicted. Part of him wanted to tell Dave to act, then. Stand up to his dad, come out, show everyone who he was. He longed to be able to be himself around Dave in public. He longed to show the world his boyfriend. But he knew it wasn’t that simple, and the other part of him, the rational part, knew that happiness could never come that easily. Dave needed time, and he would give it to him, if that was the price he had to pay to be with him.

‘Don’t be sorry,’ said Nick, stroking Dave’s hair. ‘You’re brilliant. You just… You need time. I get it. One day, you’ll stand up to your dad and we can be together properly.’

‘I can’t even protect you…’ Dave whispered. ‘This is all because of me, and I can’t even protect you from all the bullies that are coming after you now…’

‘They’ll stop coming eventually,’ Nick assured him. ‘Trust me, I know how to deal with bullies. Eventually, they’ll give up. It’s only fun if I let them see that they hurt me. I’m not exactly helpless, I can handle myself. Okay?’

Dave drew a shuddering breath and nodded. Nick caressed his tearstained cheek. Then he leaned in to kiss him. Dave kissed him back, urgently, passionately, leaving Nick utterly breathless. Dave pulled him into his lap, and Nick straddled his thighs, clinging to his jumper, kissing him back.

They sat like that for rather a long time, and Nick felt himself getting hard, and could feel Dave’s erection against the inside of his thigh as well. His breathing was growing shallow, and his face hot.

‘This… This probably isn’t the best place,’ he panted, as Dave shifted beneath him and began to touch him through his trousers.

‘This is the only place,’ Dave replied. ‘Please… just let me…’

The desperation in his voice was enough, and Nick nodded.

They each helped the other get his trousers and pants down. Then they stroked each other, looking into one another’s eyes. It didn’t take long. Dave came first, and Nick swallowed his cry with a deep kiss as Dave finished him off as well.

They cleaned themselves up as best they could with a pack of tissues Dave had in his pocket. Then they sat together in silence, holding hands. These were the moments now, Nick realised. These were the good times. He vowed to treasure them.

* * *

‘You know, this would be a lot easier if you’d just tell me how you’re doing,’ said Evan. He sat back in his chair, elbows resting on the armrests and fingers steepled before his face. ‘For both of us. I really want to help you, Nick.’

Nick sighed, looking away. ‘I know you do,’ he said quietly. ‘Everyone does.’

‘You didn’t tell me you were gay. Why not?’

Nick shrugged.

‘Were you afraid I wouldn’t accept you? Nick, it’s my job to listen to you and accept you. You do understand that?’

‘Guess I didn’t think it was any of your business. My sexuality has nothing to do with my mum.’

Evan leaned forwards and studied Nick’s face. ‘Your mother’s attempted suicide isn’t the only problem you have, though. Why won’t you talk to me about Craig?’

Nick flinched upon hearing the name. ‘Why should I?’ he said softly. ‘You already know what happened. I’ve told the story three times. Don’t see much point in telling it again.’

‘And your boyfriend? What about him?’

‘What _about_ him?’ Nick retorted. ‘I don’t understand what you want me to say!’

‘I don’t want you to say anything in particular,’ said Evan. ‘I just want you to be honest with me, and with yourself.’

‘I _am_ honest with myself! I just…’ Nick took a deep breath and looked Evan squarely in the eye. ‘Look. I talk to Dave and I talk to Mel. Okay? I don’t know you.’

‘It’s great that you talk to your friends,’ said Evan emphatically. ‘Really. You’re lucky to have them. Very lucky. A lot of the people who come to me, they haven’t got anyone else. But your friends aren’t mental health professionals. I am. I can help you in ways that they can’t, if you’ll just let me.’

‘You want me to trust you?’ asked Nick. ‘Fine. Tell me about yourself.’

‘We’re not here to talk about me—’

‘Humour me.’

They looked at each other for a few moments in silence, as if sizing each other up. Nick spoke again. ’Tell me one detail about your life. A personal detail, not where you grew up or where you got your degree. Tell me… Tell me why you wanted to be a psychologist.’

Evan frowned. Looked away. Licked his lips nervously. He took off his glasses and polished them on the hem of his shirt. Then he replaced them and looked at Nick again.

‘My brother,’ he said. ‘Richard. He’s bipolar. All they ever did was pump him full of drugs. Uppers and downers, downers and uppers. And it never did him any good. He still tried to jump out of a window on a manic high. He just wanted to see how long it would take him to hit the ground, wanted the rush, because all the meds ever did to him was make him not feel, and feeling was all he ever wanted. You understand? I wanted to become a psychologist because solving people’s mental problems by giving them drugs to remove all feeling, all sensation and essentially leaving them empty shells, walking and talking but not experiencing, doesn’t make any sense. I want people to deal with their shit and _live_.’

Nick blinked. Maybe it was Evan’s sudden use of profanity that did it, but he smiled, and nodded. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let’s talk.’

* * *

‘So, no sign of Davey-boy being a man any time soon?’ asked Matt casually. Nick looked up at him and frowned. 

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, he’s not about to stand up to his dad or anything.’

‘He’ll get there,’ said Nick and turned back to the telly. ‘He just needs time. His dad is a tough nut to crack.’

‘If it were me, I’d just tell him to stay the hell out of my life,’ said Matt. ‘None of his business.’

‘I’m sure you would. But your dad isn’t Dave’s dad,’ said Nick, smiling a half smile. 

‘I still say you deserve better,’ said Matt.

‘Maybe, but this is what I have, and it’s fine, I can live with it for now. If it has to be like this until college, or until Dave turns eighteen or whatever, so be it. What’s a few months, or a year and a bit?’

Matt muted the TV and turned on the sofa to face Nick. ‘I would treat you better.’

Nick laughed. ‘You? Mr. Love ‘em and leave ‘em? How many people have you shagged again?’

‘I shag girls, I don’t fall for them. I fall for guys.’ The look on Matt’s face was serious. ‘You’re too good for Dave. You’re clever and brave and kind, and he’s just not. I used to think he was, but it’s obvious he’s not. You deserve someone who will give you the same kindness as you bestow on the rest of the world. I don’t care what people think or say about me. I would only care about you.’

Nick blushed and looked away, not knowing what to say. Matt reached out and grabbed his hand. ‘Please. Give me a chance.’

Nick looked up at him, and before he knew it, Matt was cupping his face in his hands and kissing him. Not forcefully, like Alan had, but gently. Almost shyly. Nick drew a sharp breath through his nose and closed his eyes for a moment, out of impulse. But when his eyelids fluttered shut, all he could see was Dave. Dave glaring at him, shouting at him, smiling at him. Dave looking angry, uncomfortable, happy. Dave’s blue eyes and blonde hair and red lips, parted, inviting. Dave holding his hand. Holding _him_. _Kissing him_.

He broke lip contact. ‘What—’ Nick swallowed. ‘What is it with guys randomly kissing me?’

‘Well, you’re very kissable,’ Matt replied.

Nick laughed softly. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, Matt, but no. I can’t do this.’

Matt looked down. He stroked Nick’s cheek with his thumb and touched Nick’s forehead to his. Then he sighed. ‘Yeah, I was afraid of that. Had to try, though.’

Nick gently removed Matt’s hands from his face and pulled away from him. ‘Why?’ he asked simply.

Matt looked up at him and gave a half smile. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.

‘I thought you were Dave’s friend.’

‘I dunno about that…’ Matt leaned back in his seat again. ‘I had a crush on Dave. He rejected me, though. I thought it was because he was straight, but he was really nice about it and never told anyone. Then, when I thought he’d done the same to you I felt… empathy? I dunno… I thought maybe you and I could…’ He made a face. Then he smiled. ‘And then you told me you were really together and it was really confusing… It wasn’t fair of me to try. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Nick. ‘You know, Dave and I have been through a lot by now… I haven’t really told you everything and I don’t think I can, to be frank… But I love him. So if he needs time to figure out how to do this, how to come out and stand up to his dad, I’ll give him that. He’s done so much for me.’

‘He _so_ doesn’t deserve you,’ said Matt, grinning. Nick returned the grin.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘But hey, at least now we’re even. We’ve both kissed _you_. Feels like a rite of passage.’

Matt threw back his head and laughed outright at that. He picked up a fistful of popcorn and threw it at Nick, who giggled. Then Matt picked up the remote and they both turned their attention back to the telly.


	18. Speak in Tongues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Don't let them get their way. Don't let them have their way. You're beautiful and so blasé, so please don't let them have their way. Don't fall back into the decay. There is no law we must obey. So please don't let them have their way. Don't give in to yesterday! We can build a new tomorrow, today..._  
>  \--'Speak in Tongues' by Placebo

Having Matt for an ally proved to have its benefits. He helped make distractions so they could slip away, provided alibis to Dave’s friends and, on the few occasions the three of them found themselves alone in one place, gave encouragement and moral support. One day, he even got Dave out of football practice so he could sneak off and spend the afternoon at Nick’s house instead. 

Dave was already there when Nick got home. Nick had been held up by bullies on the way home again, but having escaped unharmed decided against telling Dave about it. This would be the first time they would have more than half an hour to spend together since Easter, and Nick didn’t want to waste any more time on those worthless bastards.

He found Dave in the sitting room with Zoë, having a soft drink and talking. 

‘…So coach thinks I’m sick and Father thinks I’m at football practice. No idea what we’d do without Matt, really,’ Dave was saying.

Nick made his presence known with a greeting and plopped down in the sofa next to Dave, snatching his glass out of his hand and taking a sip of his drink.

Zoë shook her head. ‘I probably shouldn’t tell you what I’m thinking… He _is_ your dad.’

Dave scoffed. ‘He is _not_ my dad. Dads love their kids and look out for them. He’s an unfortunate biological relative. I’m just a disappointment to him.’

‘Still…’ Zoë had a pained expression on her face. ‘I mean, I know all about shitty dads, believe me, but I think even our dad loved us at some point, even if he doesn’t seem to give two shits now. At least yours cares whether you live or die, yeah?’

Dave shrugged, taking his glass back from Nick and draining it.

‘Shall we go upstairs?’ Nick asked.

‘Yes, I suppose you two would rather be alone,’ said Zoë, standing up. ‘I’ve got some work to do, anyway. There’s been a massive cock-up in archiving…’ She picked up the empty glasses and smiled down at them. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

Nick took Dave’s hand and hauled him out of the couch, and then they made their way up to his bedroom.

Once inside they shut the door behind them and were on each other in seconds, lips crashing together, hands reaching to touch as many parts of each other’s bodies as possible. Nick came up for air for long enough to turn on some music before they fell into bed, attached at the lips once more.

Pulling away slightly, Dave pulled his own green school jumper over his head before getting to work on removing Nick’s, but Nick grabbed him by the now loose tie and pulled him down on top of him into another smothering kiss.

‘God,’ he whispered between kisses, ‘you have no idea how much I want to do this every single time I see you…’

‘No, I do,’ said Dave, breathlessly. ‘I really, really do…’ He kissed Nick again. ‘Now hold still so I can get your clothes off!’ he growled, and Nick giggled.

Dave pulled Nick’s jumper off him, before loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his chest. He caressed the pale skin with his finger tips and Nick threw his head back, his eyes fluttering shut, and released a moan. The feel of Dave’s hands on his skin was intoxicating.

Dave kissed a trail down Nick’s chest and stomach, and didn’t hesitate for a moment when he reached the lining of Nick’s trousers, unzipping them and pulling off both trousers and pants in a single move. Nick groaned as Dave’s hot mouth covered him.

He nestled himself between Nick’s legs, stroking his hips and his thighs with his hands. Then he wedged one hand under Nick’s arse and squeezed a bit, and suddenly Nick knew exactly what he wanted.

‘Dave!’ he gasped. ‘Wait, stop…’

Dave stopped immediately, sitting up. ‘Am I doing it wrong?’ he asked nervously, and Nick smiled.

‘No, you’re not doing anything wrong, I just…’ He fidgeted a bit. ‘I was thinking and… Do you… I mean, do you want to fuck me?’ It came out very quickly and he felt himself blush as he said it. He’d wanted this for months, so why was it so hard to say it?

Dave looked down at him, wide-eyed. ‘I… Do you want me to?’ he asked softly. 

Nick nodded, looking everywhere but at Nick’s face. 

‘Are you sure?’ asked Dave. ‘Cause I just thought maybe, after everything—’

Nick knew exactly what he’d thought, and he cut him off with a shake of his head. ‘I refuse to let him have that,’ he said quietly. ‘If I let that stop me, then he wins. This…’ He paused and bit his lip and then looked at Dave again. ‘It was supposed to be yours. It belongs to you.’

Dave looked at him for a long moment. Then he swallowed audibly and nodded.

Nick sat up, facing Dave, and began to remove his tie and his shirt. Dave sat still, passive, letting him do the work, his tongue flitting out to lick his lip every once in a while in a nervous gesture. Nick pressed light kisses to Dave’s chest as it was revealed.

When the shirt was gone, Nick put his arms around Dave, revelling in the feeling of warm skin against his own, Dave’s heart beating against his. Then he kissed him, gently but passionately. When he pulled back, Dave’s pupils were dilated and his breathing had grown somewhat laboured.

Nick lay down on his side, reaching into his night stand to pull out a condom and a bottle of lube, which he handed to Dave. Then he lay on his back, his eyes fixed to Dave’s, as though issuing a challenge.

It was awkward and messy and slightly painful. Then it was very, very good and then it got very, very loud, and Dave had to cover Nick’s mouth with his hand so Zoë wouldn’t hear him. Nick stuck out his tongue and smothered Dave’s palm in saliva, and it was Dave’s turn to be too loud. Nick grabbed hold of his shoulders and pulled him down, capturing his lips, and the extra pressure of Dave’s body on his cock was enough to make him come, and he bit Dave’s lip to keep from crying out. Then Dave came too, moaning into his mouth.

When it was over, Dave collapsed on top of Nick, panting, trying desperately to catch his breath, and Nick stroked his blonde hair in what he hoped was a soothing manner. ‘You okay?’ he asked quietly.

Dave laughed breathlessly into Nick’s shoulder. ‘Am I okay?’ he repeated. ‘I’m… I’m brilliant! That… that was… God, that was the most intense thing I’ve ever experienced!’ He pulled a few ragged breaths and then propped himself up on his elbow, looking into Nick’s eyes. ‘Are _you_ okay?’ he asked seriously. ‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?

Nick smiled so widely his cheeks hurt. ‘I feel fantastic,’ he said emphatically. ‘I love you.’

Dave kissed his forehead gently. ‘I love you, too.’

* * *

It was an ordinary Thursday, lunchtime, and Dave was about to go see Nick when he bumped into Alan. They froze, staring at each other. Alan swallowed.

‘Where are _you_ going?’ the larger boy asked quietly. 

‘None of your business,’ Dave retorted. They stood still for a few moments, sizing each other up. Then Dave said, ‘Out of my way, Alan.’

Alan snorted a humourless laugh. ‘Fuck you, Dave,’ he said. ‘You don’t get to tell me what to do.’

Dave shrugged, stepping around him. 

‘Dave,’ said Alan suddenly, and Dave was about to turn around when another voice called his name. 

Matt was coming towards him at a jog. ‘There you are,’ he said. ‘Mr. Cooper wants to see you.’

‘Cheers, Matt,’ said Dave and kept walking. As he passed the other, he gave him a barely noticeable wink. Today, ‘Mr. Cooper wants to see you’ seemed to be code for ‘Get your arse to your lunchtime snogging session’. 

Dave squeezed in behind the bike shed to find Nick already there, smiling when he saw him. Dave sat down on the ground next to him, taking Nick’s smaller hand in his own and kissing his cheek.

‘You all right?’ he asked softly.

‘Yeah,’ said Nick, meeting his gaze. ‘You?’

Dave shrugged. ‘Ran into Alan on my way here. It was… weird.’

‘I ran into him on the way home from school the other day,’ said Nick. ‘He’s hanging out with some real thugs now. They were gonna pummel me.’

Dave felt fury fill him again and he took a deep breath to calm himself. ‘If he hurt you, I swear—’

‘He didn’t,’ said Nick, quickly. ‘Actually, he kind of saved my skin. Convinced the others I wasn’t worth it. I think he might come around soon.’

Every trace of anger left Dave as he looked at the boy next to him, all earnest grey eyes and quiet compassion. ‘This is what I love about you,’ he said softly. Nick smiled again and lay down with his head in Dave’s lap, looking up at him. ‘You believe in the good in everyone,’ Dave continued, stroking his cheek.

‘Not everyone,’ said Nick, his expression darkening. ’There’s no good in Craig.’

Dave made a grimace. He took Nick’s hand again, giving it a squeeze. ‘Any news?’

‘They’re gonna charge him,’ said Nick slowly. ‘But it’s not looking so good… I mean, we’re probably gonna get him on the assault charge, cause of the bruises and forensics and everything, and stuff he said when they arrested him, but…’ He trailed off.

‘But what?’ Dave ran his fingers through his lover’s hair. 

‘Well, there’s no evidence of… of sexual assault…’ Nick swallowed, looking away. ‘They found, er… cum stains. DNA traces on the bedding that weren’t mine, but he’s refused to give any samples. And with no witnesses…’ He sighed. ‘It’s a bit of a mess, really. The bastard’s denying everything.’

Dave bit his lip in a surprisingly Nick-like gesture, and sighed as well. He closed his eyes for a minute, and then came to a decision. ‘I’ll testify,’ he said finally. ‘I wasn’t there, but you came straight to me. I saw the bruises when they were fresh, and I saw what he’d done to you back in October, too. And Jason, he can testify as to you coming to us, your mental state and what-not.’

Nick sat up. He looked at Dave and smiled. ‘Dave, you can’t,’ he said softly. ‘Not without people finding out about everything… By which I mean your dad.’

‘Do you think I care about that?’ said Dave fiercely. ‘Trust me, my problems pale in comparison to this.’ He reached out and stroked Nick’s neck gently, pulling him towards him and kissing his forehead. ‘We’re gonna put Craig’s disgusting, abusive, rapist arse in jail for a very long time.’

Nick sniffed, and Dave realised he was crying. He cupped his chin in his left hand and wiped the tears from his cheek with his thumb. ‘You okay?’ he asked gently. Nick nodded.

‘Yeah,’ he whispered. ‘I am now. God, I love you so much…’ Then he leaned in and touched his lips to Dave’s, and the rest of the world just fell away for a moment.

Afterwards, Dave took Nick’s hand and smiled at him. ‘So, what do you say?’ he asked. ‘Shall we get this over with?’

Nick cocked his head to one side. ‘Get what over with?’

Dave smiled crookedly. ‘Coming out,’ he said. ‘I think it’s getting to be about that time, don’t you?’

Nick looked bewildered for just a moment longer, but then a wide grin spread across his face.

‘You really mean that?’ he asked.

‘Of course I really mean it,’ said Dave softly. ‘If I’m testifying at the trial, I might as well come out of the closet while I’m at it, right? Besides… You’re worth it.’ He gave Nick’s hand a squeeze and then stood up, pulling his boyfriend to his feet. ‘You ready?’

‘Are you seriously asking me that?’ Nick asked with a grin.

And with that, they left the safety of their secret hiding place behind the bike shed and walked out into the school yard, hand in hand.

At first, nobody seemed to notice, and then all at once it was like everyone did. 

‘Oi! Gone queer, Thompson?’ someone called, and Dave halted, searching the crowd for the face of the one who’d said it. He fixed the boy with his steadiest gaze and said, ‘Yes.’

Nick giggled. ‘You certainly have a penchant for the dramatic, haven’t you?’ he remarked. 

‘Well, if I’m gonna come out, I wanna do it properly,’ said Dave, shrugging. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alan, pale faced and wide eyed, looking like he was trying to melt into the background. Dave ignored him.

As they reached the front steps of the school building, Chas stepped in front of them. Dave looked right at him, challenging him to judge them.

‘So, you two, then?’ asked Chas, his expression unreadable.

‘Yeah,’ said Dave, utterly stone faced, ‘us two.’

Chas nodded slowly. ‘That’s cool,’ he said with a shrug of one shoulder. Then he grinned. ‘Happy?’

Dave felt a slow grin spread across his features. Then he glanced at Nick, who was wearing an expression to rival his own. He squeezed Nick’s hand and lifted it to his face, his lips brushing one of Nick’s knuckles gently.

‘Happy,’ said Dave.

* * *

They walked hand in hand up the road towards Dave’s house. They didn’t speak, they just walked in a tense and nervous silence. When they reached the gate, Dave hesitated. 

‘We don’t have to do this now,’ said Nick, lifting a hand to stroke Dave’s shoulder softly. ‘We’ll do it when you’re ready, it doesn’t have to be today.’

‘No, it does,’ said Dave. ‘I’m brave right now. Besides, he’ll find out eventually, now that it’s out, and if I don’t stand up to him now, he’ll just make everything even harder.’

Dave opened the gate with a trembling hand, and they walked up to the front door. Dave unlocked it and opened it and they stepped inside. 

Still holding hands, they made their way to the end of the hall, where his father’s study was. Dave’s pulse sped up and he swallowed. Then he raised his hand and knocked.

‘Come.’

They looked at each other, and Nick smiled encouragingly at Dave. It made him feel braver, and he pushed open the door.

His father looked up from the desk. His mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide. Dave shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and felt Nick give his hand a little squeeze. 

‘What—’ his father began, cutting himself off abruptly and starting again. ‘What is the meaning of this?’

‘Father, this is my boyfriend,’ said Dave. His father looked like he wanted to say something, but he pressed on. ‘You can either accept it or not, but you’re not going to stop it. There’s just no way you can. It’s my life, and you can’t tell me what to do or who to be, and I won’t let you or anyone else take Nick away from me.’

His father stood. ‘I will not have a mincy little bender for a son, do you hear?’ he barked. ‘I raised you to be a man!’

‘You hardly raised me at all!’ Dave shot back heatedly. ‘You tried to raise me to be you, but I’m not! You wanted me to be a man? This is me, being a man, and standing up to you!’ He took a deep breath. ‘Look. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can ground me, and I just won’t come home from school. You can try to take me with you and move away, and I’ll run off and come back here. If you won’t accept me for who I am and if you can’t deal with who I fall in love with, then I’ll do and be what I want anyway.’

‘And if you try to kick Dave out, he’ll come live with me,’ said Nick.

Dave smiled, then, and looked fondly at his boyfriend. He lifted his hand and kissed it. Then he turned back to his father. ‘So, it seems we’ve come to a bit of an impasse.’

Dave’s father seemed at a loss. His shoulders slumped a bit and he looked away from his son. ‘Who knows?’ he asked quietly.

‘Everyone,’ said Nick. 

Dave’s father looked up sharply, his face turning white as a sheet. ‘Everyone?’ he repeated in a thin voice.

‘Or at least, most people at school, which means everyone will know soon,’ said Dave. 

His father nodded curtly. ‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘If that’s how it is then… Fine. But _he_ leaves now. He does not come here, ever.’ He didn’t even look at Nick when he said it, his stony look reserved for his son alone.

‘Done,’ said Nick. ‘You’ll never have to see me.’

‘And you will not neglect your studies or football for this.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ said Dave, grinning now. ‘Thanks, _Dad_ , you’re the best!’ His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He squeezed Nick’s hand and they turned around and left.

Once they were standing on the pavement outside, Dave felt how shaky his knees were and he slumped against the fence. He felt giddy and light-headed, and let out a short, broken laugh. Nick raised an eyebrow, looking at him.

‘You all right?’ he asked, an amused smile on his lips.

‘Yeah,’ said Dave, composing himself a bit. ‘Yeah, I think so… That, um… Heh…’ He stood up straight again. ‘So… what happens now?’

Nick took his hand in both of his and raised it to his lips, kissing it softly. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘we live.’


	19. Epilogue: Bright Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _No one can take it away from me. No one can tear it apart. It may be elaborate fantasy, but it's the perfect place to start. Because a heart that hurts is a heart that works._  
>  \--'Bright Lights' by Placebo

Nick stuck his head out of the bathroom door. ‘Mel!’ he called down the corridor. ‘Where’s your eyeliner? The black one?’

‘Why d’you want to know?’ Mel called back.

He stepped back inside. ‘Need to borrow it.’ Nick poked through the medicine cabinet. Mascara, lip gloss, three shades of eyeshadow, hand cream… But no eyeliner.

‘What’s in it for me, then?’ said a voice behind him, and he turned around a little guiltily. Mel stood in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning on the doorframe. Her dyed brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and one eyebrow was raised above the rim of her glasses.

‘Oh, come on, please?’ Nick begged, folding his hands before him. ‘Just need it for the Academy gig tonight!’

‘And I repeat, what’s in it for me?’

Nick rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘Yes, you can borrow my leather jacket for your next date with _Brendan_ ,’ he said.

‘Thank you!’ Mel squealed and hugged him. ‘Eyeliner’s in my room, top of the dresser. You know, you really should get your own. Not sanitary, sharing eyeliners.’

Nick shrugged. ‘I only ever wear it for gigs.’

‘Yeah, and you keep getting more of those, so just buy your own bloody make-up, won’t you?’ Mel laughed.

Nick stepped out of the bathroom and Mel followed him down the corridor towards her room. ‘When’s Dave coming home?’ she asked. 

‘He’s at the library, studying,’ said Nick. He entered Mel’s room and found the kohl pencil on the dresser. ‘He’ll meet up with us at the Students’ Union tonight.’ He turned to the mirror on the wall and applied the eyeliner around his eyes, smudging it slightly. ‘How’s that?’

‘When did you get so vain?’ asked Mel with a giggle. 

‘The life of a rock star is one of vanity, narcissism and plain arrogance, my dear Melanie,’ said Nick, examining his reflection. ‘Ow!’ he shouted as Mel slapped his arm. Then he grinned at her. ‘Cheers for the eyeliner. Will I see you tonight, and is _Brendan_ coming?’

‘Stop saying his name like that!’

‘Like what?’

‘With that… tone. _Brendan_.’ She blushed. 

‘But you’re so cute when you’re in love!’ said Nick with a smile.

Mel rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, we’ll both be there. Now, get out of here! Go soundcheck!’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Nick seriously. He kissed her forehead. ‘See you tonight!’

* * *

Dave glanced at his watch and closed his anatomy textbook. He brushed a strand of blonde hair from his forehead and stood up, placing his books and notes into his bag. He wanted to get to the Students’ Union in good time before the gig.

The walk from the library to the Students’ Union and the Manchester Academy was very short. Dave made his way down into the basement of the building, which was where Club was located.

Nick was up on the stage when he got there, his white Telecaster strapped on, playing a riff. He wore tight grey jeans and a loose, light blue t-shirt. His brown hair was styled in a spiky sort of do, and his eyes were heavily lined with kohl. He looked every bit the rock star he was becoming.

‘Could I have a little less reverb in the monitor, please?’ he said into the microphone. Then he saw Dave and smiled, giving him a little wave. 

‘Some vocals next,’ said the sound tech, and Nick sang a couple of lines from one of his songs. His voice seemed to go straight to Dave’s heart, or perhaps his groin, and Dave smiled. Nick on stage was like Nick in private—confident, charismatic and flirtatious. So very different from the quiet introvert he was in public day to day life.

‘Have you got what you need?’ Nick asked when he’d finished the chorus, and the sound tech gave him the thumbs up. He pulled the guitar over his head and set it in a stand on stage, then jumped down and ran towards Dave.

‘Hello, Gorgeous! You’re early,’ he said, wrapping his arms around him.

‘Wanted to see you before the gig,’ said Dave. He took a deep breath. Even now, Nick’s scent made him feel lightheaded. ‘Still can’t believe you guys are playing the Academy…’

‘It’s not the actual Academy, just the Club,’ said Nick. ‘And we’re just the warm-up, anyway. It’s no big deal.’

He sounded like he was really trying to convince himself of that. His voice was slightly shaky.

Dave took Nick’s face in his hands and kissed him. ‘You’ll be amazing,’ he said. ‘I know you will.’

Nick smiled at him and kissed him back, pulling him closer. Dave put his arms about Nick’s waist.

‘Are Mellie and Brendan gonna be here tonight?’ asked Dave when they parted again.

‘Yeah, she said they would,’ said Nick. ‘And she took the Diesel jacket hostage for her eyeliner, too.’ He rolled his eyes. 

‘You’re just jealous because that thing looks so good on her,’ said Dave with a smirk. Then he leaned in close and whispered, ‘Of course, it looks even better on you, and so does the guyliner…’

‘Nick!’ Matt called from over by the stage. Then he spotted Dave and waved. ‘Oh, hi, Dave. We need to borrow Nick for the full band soundcheck now.’

‘I’ll be right there!’ Nick called back. ‘Duty calls,’ he said, turning back to his boyfriend. ‘I’ll see you in a bit, okay?’

‘Yeah,’ said Dave, releasing him reluctantly. ‘Go. Do your thing.’

Nick just stood there for a moment, head cocked slightly to one side and hand on his hip. 

‘What?’ said Dave.

‘Nothing,’ Nick replied. ‘Just… four years. It’s a long time.’

Dave nodded. ‘It is,’ he said. ‘I can’t wait to get you out of here and back home tonight,’ he added softly, unable to help himself. ‘You look so fucking hot like this.’ He smiled happily at the way he could still make Nick blush by complimenting him. ‘Now, get your sexy arse up on that stage before I tear all your clothes off!’

Nick smirked and looked him square in the eye. ‘That a promise, Mr. Thompson?’

‘It’s a guarantee, Mr. Davis.’

 

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And that's it. The end. BUT! I'm posting a collection of short stories and novellas about minor characters from the story, starting with the story of Alan, which you can find [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/802109/chapters/1511825)! And I'm about to start work on plotting out a sequel, though that may be some time in the making. I'll try not to make it as long as this one. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading! You're all fantastic people! <3


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